#well not SO northern but enough that it's noticeable i guess

[eggmeralda]

biggest discovery of my life is finding out I naturally have a northern accent that I've unknowingly been hiding for like 20 years

[freakassfemme]

beloved butch abby and her soft femme

a/n: yeah, this is a self indulgent as fuck drabble <3 this is heavily inspired by my own relationship so sorry if it gets too niche </3 my fiancé and I just have a running joke about how much they are like abby so it kinda veered off that way. I still think its rly cute regardless

how you meet! <3

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who manages a nice cafe a few streets off of downtown in a big city somewhere on a northern coast. she's stumbling in the front door, grumbling about how the delivery trucks always drop packages out front instead of the back when she sees you.

sure, she's used to tourists, but it's fucking february. hardly anyone is traveling, let alone for anything beyond the major sights, and you're sitting in a booth, sipping on a hot latte with lipstick stains on the mug and clasping your hands like a princess as you look over your scrapbooking supplies. yeah, you're a local.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who doesn't even bother trying to get your number at first. she's too busy with the cafe, with lev, with crippling debt from her attempt at medical school before her dad passed -- at least, that's what she tells herself and her coworkers who catch her ogling you when you show up more and more.

she notices some pins on your tote bag when you come up one day, listening to you chat to the barista and waving them off each time they ask her a ridiculous question like what syrups do we have, playing stupid so she is forced to interact with you.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who just can't resist you when you start showing up more and more, so she goes home and listens to chappell fucking roan because she sees a pin on your bag. she hates it, but one day, after a month or so, she adds it to the morning Spotify shuffle, and just turns and smiles and says "me too" when she hears you telling the barista how much you love my kink is karma.

"oh my gosh, really?!"

yeah, everyone knows that's bullshit.

dating! <3

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who surprises you with full on fucking roses every date night, which are often on Wednesdays, because she loves taking you to karaoke nights. no, she doesn't sing, but she'll hold up your mirror for you to check your makeup before you run on stage, singing something adorable like from the start by Laufey.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is always so delighted when you swing by midday, dropping off a handmade lunch in a cute little metal bento box, even if she's covered in flour. she'll bring you to her office, give you a little somethinggggg sweet to hold you over, make you a coffee and send you on your way.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is so scared to have you meet lev, her fingers are physically shaking when you two are in the same room together for the first time. lev is a little suspicious of you at first, but quickly becomes well-adjusted when you start sending baked goods home with abby for him as well.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who comes over to your apartment in a black tank top and sweats, hair messy whenever (yep! you guessed it!) the sink is clogged, because city plumbing is terrible and she's fixed them enough times at work to be able to save you from a regular bill each month. plus, the way you thank her is always payment enough

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who nearly fucking cries when you make her a homemade Christmas stocking. lev doesn't celebrate, and without her dad, she hasn't found a reason to do anything like that just for herself. so on Christmas morning, when she carefully shakes out a set of matching heart-shaped carabiners, yeah, she does cry a little bit.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who shyly comes out of the bathroom one day holding some chest tape, asking if you’ll help her put it on because “for some reason the right side is halfway on but I put it on backwards on accident so I can’t get the plastic off so—“ (obviously you help her)

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who offers to buy you tennis skirts, athleisure dresses, fucking lululemon or whatever it is that will get you to come to the gym with her, even just to sit on her lap when she does hip thrusts. she loves sending you mirror pics after leg day, and yeah, you of course die every time.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who weaves through crowded downtown like it's nothing with you on her arm and two tote bags of your mail hanging from her arms when you finally get around to sending it out. she insists that she doesn't mind the little canvas bags with their floral prints.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who wears her beat up brown leather jacket like she's trying to run through the fabric. Lets you help her condition the material and put on patches, and even goes so far as to wrap you up a matching red one for your birthday that year.

as for her other clothes, she's constantly wearing little holes in the elbows and knees that you're more than happy to stitch up for her, and she swears her heart flutters every time she catches a glimpse of the woven embroidery thread in a green tee shirt or wool sweater.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who goes feral for the type o negative/out of the fire TikTok trend. she doesn't have her own account, but when you show her the videos of girls in their dainty Mary Janes stepping on to leather or work boots, she agrees without batting an eye, much to your surprise.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who slips a tag with your name on to it next to her other dog tags, keeping it like a secret special token on her necklace.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you do her hair sometimes, even though she's perfectly fine at it herself. she just adores those sweet late nights in her bedroom where you're rubbing some warm-smelling lotion into her back and weaving her hair back into place.

nsfw! <3

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is a god damn sucker for praise and worship, both ways. she feels like you two are the only people in the world when she's on her knees, hands inching under your skirt and up your thighs while you purr sweet things in her ear, and she's telling you all the things she wants to do to you.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who definitely talks you through it, and is constantly astonished by just how into her you are.

"oh, fuck baby -- you're dirty, jesus,"

"she's so needy for me, huh? you gonna let me take care of her, baby?"

"mmpf, thank you, thank you--"

"fuck, i know baby, i know. you can, i know you can. you're taking it so well, let me do it f'you. shit"

-`♡´- beloved butch abby whose hand nearly rips the mattress open the first time you're sat in front of her, leaving little lipstick marks on her strap as you work your mouth around it, making a slobbery and moaning debauched version of your pretty self for her.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you slip a finger between her legs while you suck her strap, lets you push it inside while your mouth pushes the base of her strap against her clit until she's shaking and stuttering and practically face-fucking you.

yeah, she stays strapped up on dates, too.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who has a mean 3 finger combo that she'll pull out absolutely anywhere - in the back of her truck, on the kitchen counter, in the bar bathroom, wherever she sees fit.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who takes mirror selfies while you're riding her, or just in her lap, sucking on her neck or looking shyly back at the mirror. puts her huge ass hand on your ass, squeezing it and saves the photos for her own personal spank bank. the arch of your back drives her crazy.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who melts so easily under your prettily-painted nails, dragging down her abs while you murmur how handsome she is right into her pussy. her legs twitch, and god, she's trying so hard not to fucking crush you (not that you'd mind), but she about loses it when you ask her to sit on your face.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who hoists you on to her shoulders against the inside walls of her office, the door locked shut and your hand clamped over your mouth during her lunch break. covers up any stains on her shirt with her apron, acting like she needs to work up another batch of something while you're prancing out breathless and pink in the cheeks.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you play Jesse Jo Stark when you fuck in the backseat of her truck, hands intertwined and leaving palm prints on the steamy windows while you eat each other out in parking lots, murmuring I love you's while the truck rocks back and forth.

[womenloverlmao]

Baby - Spencer Reid Blurb

Summary: Reader calls Spencer ‘baby’ for the first time.

Growing up in the South, you were used to being called things like baby, sugar, darlin’, sweetheart everywhere you went. You ended up picking up on that habit, too. You would call everyone around you things like that, sometimes people wouldn’t understand it. That was a specific problem when you moved up North.

Virginia was the fine line between south and north. Too northern to be southern, too southern to be northern. They were friendly enough, but not that friendly. Especially with you, and you were relatively young. It was kind of unconventional for you to do that.

You generally didn’t care, unless someone told you they didn’t like it. If they told you to stop, you would! You were friendly.

All that changed when you started talking to Spencer. He had never really been in love before, and you didn’t want to scare him away. He got flustered when he heard you say his name, how would the sweet boy react when you called him a term of endearment? He would be a goner.

That’s when it slipped out.

You were a few weeks into your relationship, he wouldn’t technically be called your boyfriend, but you had gone on a few dates and his friends at work were starting to notice the change in his behavior. You spoke a lot. Almost constantly (ignoring when both of you were at work), you were either on call or something like that.

When you got invited to his apartment for the first time, you were so happy. (He was hella anxious though and rushed to clean everything up immediately worried about screwing things up with you.) You wore a cute enough outfit that didn’t look like you were trying, but enough so that he didn’t think you were a bum.

He made himself coffee in the middle of the day, and brought you tea, remembering that coffee made you feel nauseous.

“You remembered?” You asked. Of course he remembered, he has an eidetic memory shawty 😭

“Well, yeah. But it makes sense, I guess, coffee is…” he then proceeded to explain something that would make your aversion to the drink make sense.

“Wow, that’s… cool. Thank you, baby,” you said, without thinking.

He immediately turned red, and looked down.

“Shit, im sorry, I call everyone that,” you tried to explain.

“No- uh, don’t- don’t be sorry- it’s, it’s- uh, I liked- um, I liked it. I’d- I’d actually- actually like if you did it, uh, again.” Leave it to Spencer to stutter like that after just the smallest sign of affection.

“Fucking hell, I thought I was gonna scare you off, Spencer…” you almost laughed.

“Scare- scare me off? how?”

“Baby, you turn into a puddle when I say your name. I imagined that you wouldn’t even be able to function, and you wouldn’t know what to do if I called you anything else. I guess I was right in some way though…”

You would add the name in occasionally throughout the rest of the time there, and every time you said it he would turn red. He would get all smile-y though, because he knew something you didn’t. He wasn’t just baby, he was *your* baby.

[indieyuugure]

Howdy! I’m excited for your new Turtles comic! Two questions-

1. Do you have voice claims for your characters in Indie’s Turtles?

2. Do your turtles have more defined noses than most iterations? It kind of looks like they have both defined noses and beaks on the cover art.

Thanks! I’m quite excited to be finally sharing it! ^v^

Yes! Here’s the link to the post I made about voices: (it’s got much more detail plus a video):

Uh, well they’re not per se “noses” but I guess that fits well enough? Idk, but yes, they’re much more defined than other iterations

Really, they noses designed to look like the top half of a turtle’s beak. My turtles are designed after Northern Map Turtles, so here’s one of the references I used:

I won’t say I did a perfect job, but the turtles are meant to have a humanoid version of this type of turtles’ facial structure.

Good question! :]

[melzula]

North and South

part two

pairing: zuko x princess!reader

notes: part two is here! again, there’s some notable changes from the comics to fit Princess into the story but i think it works! hope you guys enjoy :)

summary: team Avatar is together again, but Galik’s vendetta against the Northerners prevents them from enjoying their time at the festival

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

Hakoda and Malina are waiting outside the palace for you when you finally return from your talk with Katara. Both look eager to speak to you, and you’re not sure if that’s a good sign or a bad one. The trio had been vague when requesting your presence for an impromptu meeting, so you weren’t exactly sure what they wished to discuss with you, but if you had to guess you’d assume it has something to do with the oil refinery they wish to build.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us at such short notice,” Malina professes earnestly as the two escort you to your office. “I know how busy you must be what with the festival being tonight.”

“It’s not a problem at all. I always look forward to hearing new ideas for the improvement of our tribe,” you assure her with a shake of your head. “But I do have to ask, what exactly are you hoping to discuss with me?”

“You said you wanted proof that the construction of the oil refinery would be in the tribe’s best interest,” Hakoda notes thoughtfully as the three of you finally reach your office. “Well, Maliq and Malina managed to bring the proof to you.”

You furrow your brows in uncertainty at his words and open your mouth to ask just what exactly he means by that, but your is question answered when the doors of your office are finally opened. In the center of the room stands Maliq with a content smile on his face, and beside him stands none other than the Blind Bandit herself.

“Toph!” You exclaim in surprise before rushing forward to envelope her in a tight hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

“I’d say the same thing if I could see,” she notes with a humorous grin. “Nice to know you missed me, your highness.”

“Of course I did! It’s been much too long.”

“Wouldn’t have been so long if you’d told me about that assassination attempt,” she notes wryly before giving you a harsh punch to the arm. “I would have kicked that guy’s butt in an instant if you’d asked.”

“Yeah, my mistake,” you note sheepishly, rubbing the tender spot on your arm from her punch. “What brings you here now?”

“We thought it would be best if you heard from a representative of a successful oil refinery yourself to see just how impactful this project could be for the South,” Maliq answers on Toph’s behalf.

“Representative? I’m an executive partner now!” The girl corrects with a hint of annoyance in her tone.

“Miss Beifong here oversees Earthern Fire Industries and has offered to supply us with the materials needed to extract the oil and build the refinery,” Malina explains animatedly.

“Wait a minute, how are you being offered supplies for a project that doesn’t exist yet?” You retort with a raised brow, looking at the two siblings expectantly. Malina turns meek under your gaze, but Maliq doesn’t seem to have a care about being caught in the lie.

“We may have bent the truth to get Miss Beifong to come here today,” he admits with a shrug. “But does it really matter? Now that she’s here she can tell you all about the success her refinery has had and how important such a project will be here in the South! We figured if you wouldn’t listen to us, maybe you’d listen to a trusted friend.”

“Going behind my back for something like this is unacceptable,” you scold firmly, doing your best to keep your anger at bay. “You have no right to make these types of decisions without my approval. I am Chief, and you two are visitors. Don’t forget that.”

Maliq is stunned by your words, obviously not expecting this type of response from you. He thought you were smart enough to understand how big this project could be, how desperately your people needed something like this. Why were you being so naive?

“I’m sorry, y/n, I didn’t know this was an ambush,” Toph repents, awkwardly grasping at the back of her neck. “As much as I love Malina and Maliq’s work, I wouldn’t have come if I’d known you weren’t onboard.”

“You’re making a mistake!” Maliq tries to argue. “You need to stop seeing things through such a Southern lens and look at the bigger picture here!”

“Southern lens?” You retort in offense. Malina picks up on your displeased tone and quickly steps in for her brother.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t have overstepped,” she apologizes on his behalf. “We just want to do all we can to help lift up the South.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but if you keep going behind my back then I won’t be needing your help any longer,” you warn before turning your disappointed gaze to Hakoda. “I appreciate all you’ve done and all you’re doing as advisor, but this cannot happen again.

“Understood, Chief. We shouldn’t have lied to you,” he repents with a sigh. "Perhaps we just got a little carried away.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore about this oil refinery,” you say with finality before turning to Toph. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing, but I hope you’ll stay for the festivities taking place tonight in honor of Sokka and Katara’s return home.”

“Free food and games? I’m in,” the girl replies with a grin.

You’re able to say nothing more as a knock on the door interrupts your conversation. All heads turn to the doorway where your mother steps in, a sheepish smile on her face.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she apologizes bashfully, “but Chief y/n is needed in the courtyard.”

“No, of course not, mother. Our conversation is over,” you tell her, giving the group a pointed look. “Hakoda, could you please take Toph to Sokka and Katara? They can get her situated while I’m gone.”

After giving your orders, you follow your mother out of the office and into palace hallways towards the front doors. “What needs my attention?”

“You have a visitor is all,” she notes with a giddy smile. “They requested your immediate presence.”

“It better not be another representative,” you grumble irately. You’re still frustrated over the fact that you were lied to by your advisor and that the siblings had tried to go behind your back with their project, but the feeling doesn’t last long when you see who’s standing outside the palace doors.

Bouquet of fire lilies in hand and a tender smile on his face, Zuko immediately opens his arms for you to throw yourself into his embrace. He’s impossibly warm and his hold on your figure is impossibly tight as he hugs you close to his chest.

“Zuko, you made it!” You exclaim, escaping his hold to cup his face in your hands and pull him down to meet your lips in a kiss.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he replies breathlessly after breaking your kiss. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“Definitely not as much as I’ve missed you,” you argue with a careful smile, your face growing warm as he hands you the bouquet of flowers before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you for hosting me and allowing me to stay in your home,” Zuko says to your mother, bowing in respect to the woman.

“After all you’ve done for my daughter? It’s the least I can do,” she smiles with a passive wave of her hand. Then, looking to you, she says, “I’m going back to the square to finish setting up for the festival. I’ll see you two there.”

Now alone, you eagerly take Zuko’s hand in your own and practically drag him back into the palace.

“Oh, I have the perfect outfit picked for you to wear to the festival tonight!” You exclaim elatedly while Zuko struggles to match your pace. With your back turned to him, you don’t see the way he looks at you as if you hang all the stars in the sky.

It’s good to be back.

~~~

Despite the celebration being held in honor of Sokka and Katara’s return home, you haven’t seen much of the siblings since the start of the festival. You remain glued to Zuko’s side as you stroll through the square and admire all the work that went into putting the festivities together.

“You certainly outdid yourself,” Zuko compliments with a faint smile as he watches a group of children play ring toss in hopes of winning the giant stuffed koala otter on display. The South is warm and full of life, so different from what Zuko was used to, but he enjoyed it all the same. It felt nice to finally spend time with you without having to worry about his sister or his father or any other nonsense that often got in the way of your peaceful life together.

“You don’t think it’s too much?” You ask with a sheepish laugh. “I wanted Sokka and Katara to feel appreciated, but I also just wanted to give my people the chance to have fun for a night and not have to worry about any of their troubles.”

“You’re a wonderful leader, and the South is lucky to have you,” Zuko compliments before giving you an affectionate kunik.

“Y/n!” A voice interrupts. Aang and Katara walk arm-in-arm towards you, and everything finally feels complete when the Avatar greets you with a hug.

“Aang, it’s so good to see you! I’m glad you could make it,” you express earnestly. “I was worried my invitation might have gotten lost before it could reach you.”

“It’s nice to be back in the South,” he sighs happily. “Everything looks great!”

“Everything tastes great, too!” Sokka adds as he and Toph join your group. He holds multiple skewers of meat and passes one off to you and Zuko while Toph trails behind holding a plethora of stuffed animals. “Isn’t this amazing?! Team Avatar back together again!”

“It certainly does feel like old times,” you note wistfully as you think back to your time during the war- how things have changed. “I want to thank you all again for being here, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

“We’ll always be here,” Katara says with a warm smile. “No matter what.”

“Y/n,” your mother calls from across the way, interrupting your little reunion. “It’s time for your speech!”

“Oh, of course. Sokka, Katara, come with me,” you tell the siblings, giving them no time to argue as you take each of their hands and escort them to the front.

Using your bending, you send a blast of ice into the air that erupts into a flurry of tiny snowflakes. The act catches the attention of your people, and they watch in awe as the snow begins to fall over the festival.

“People of the Southern Water Tribe, it is my great honor to have you here tonight to celebrate the return of our heroes Sokka and Katara!” You announce, earning an eruption of cheers and applause for your friends. “It is because of their bravery and sacrifice that I stand here before you today. Our tribe took a hard hit during the war, but we’ve persevered and come back even stronger! Every day that passes brings the Southern Water Tribe into a new era of strength and hope. At this time I’d like to take this moment to also thank our Reconstruction team Malina and Maliq for their help in our rebuilding process. I have great hope we can accomplish great things with the help of our sister tribe, and I’d just like to say that-“

“-Everybody needs to get out of here now!” Toph interrupts frantically as the ground begins to shake beneath you. Panicked gasps and murmurs spread throughout the crowd as you try to gain your bearings only to falter at the sight of the giant drill that emerges from beneath the ground. Your people have scattered away in search of safety, and you’re left standing horrified at the display.

At the top of the drill stands Galik, surrounded by fellow warriors with their battle regalia on and weapons at the ready. His features are angry, his eyes dead set on the Northern siblings as he begins his rant.

“Brothers and sisters, I am Galik of the Southern Water Tribe!” He proclaims. “I am your warrior, your blood, your true brother. So believe me when I say that those scoundrels from our so-called “sister tribe” are not here to help us! They are here to subjugate and humiliate us!”

“Galik, what is the meaning of this?!” You demand harshly as you approach the man despite Sokka’s warning voice begging you to stay put. Zuko watches on anxiously from the sidelines without making a move; he doesn’t want to interfere in water tribe business, but he’s prepared to do what he must to protect you if anyone so much as raises a hand towards you.

“I am sorry to ruin your celebration, Chief y/n. I know you had good intentions when inviting these outsiders into our home, but we can no longer stand by and watch them take advantage of your trusting nature. They tend to strip our land of its oil and destroy everything we’ve worked to build!”

“That oil will bring prosperity to your people!” Malina tries to argue. “These plans are for the benefit of the South!”

“Those plans,” you correct firmly, shooting a harsh glare at Malina, “no longer exist. I shut them down, Galik. No one is taking our oil.”

“So you think,” Galik corrects before producing Maliq’s missing briefcase. “Those foreigners plan to claim our oil for themselves! They plan to colonize our tribe, to have our Chief step down from her duties and allow the North to take control!”

“What? That can’t be true!” You cry indignantly before looking towards Malina. The woman doesn’t meet your eye, and slowly you feel the disappointment begin to rise within you. “Can it?”

“It was true,” she murmurs shamefully. “We never used the words colony or colonize, but we worried that the South wasn’t ready to handle such important resources. We worried that such a young girl wasn’t fit to rebuild an entire tribe.”

“And we were right,” Maliq butts in harshly much to his sister’s dismay.

“No we weren’t! We realized we were wrong and decided to abandon our original plans!”

“No, you decided! I never agreed to a change of plans!” Her brother lashes out before angrily pointing a finger at you. “Your Chief is too stuck in the past to move forward into the future! She can’t handle such a big responsibility, none of you can!”

“That is enough!” You try to interrupt only for his construction crew to block your path. Zuko is by your side in an instant, taking their transgression as his cue to step in.

“Watch it,” he warns them lowly, his eyes blazing with fierce protectiveness for his Princess.

“We’re building that refinery with or without your permission, and once that oil is out of the ground it will be under Northern control!” Maliq declares much to his sister’s trepidation.

“See how they disrespect our Chief?!” Galik counters to the group of onlookers that watch the scene unfold. “Our blood and sacrifice kept them safe during the war, and as if that wasn’t enough, now they want our oil! They want our home! They’ve wormed their way into our affairs like parasites, feeding off of our land for their own benefit! Hakoda has abused his position as advisor and led us astray. I’m sure he’s conspiring with them to take the throne for himself much like that traitor Koa tried to do!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sokka cries angrily from the crowd. “Our father would never approve of this!”

“Hakoda is too much of a coward to stand up to his own Chief!” Maliq asserts before turning his critical eyes back to you. “But I’m not. I expected better from a Princess, a girl who’s traveled the world and seen for herself the success of other nations, but I guess you really are just a Southerner after all. You can’t be trusted to know what’s best for anyone, and that’s why the South needs the oversight of an actual civilization!”

“The South needs you to leave! Immediately,” you proclaim harshly, staring down the man until he finally backs off. The air is thick with tension after Maliq’s outburst, and no one knows just what to do or say. Finally, Galik interrupts the silence.

“Your kind heart fails you again, y/n,” he says with a shake of his head and a menacing tone. “After all they’ve done, they don’t just get to leave.”

“For the tribe!” He and his warriors cry before charging at the siblings.

“Quick, we have to help them!” You urge Zuko before discarding your parka to allow you a greater range of motion to bend.

“After everything they’ve done?! He completely disrespected you!” The Fire Lord adduces.

“That doesn’t mean they deserve to be killed!”

You quickly use your bending to procure a wall of ice to block the group from reaching the siblings. You catch Aang and Katara in your peripheral fighting off Galik’s men while Sokka and Toph attempt to crowd control, and beside you Zuko shoots blasts of flames to ward off the attackers.

Suddenly, a heap of rock knocks your feet out from under you and sends you sprawling into the snow after colliding into your figure. You’d been so engrossed in warding off Galik’s men that you hadn’t even noticed Maliq and Malina’s crew sneaking up behind you.

“Don’t hurt her!” Malina protests only for one of them to dismiss her concerns.

“If she was such a “big and powerful” Chief she would have been able to defend herself,” the earth bender argues. “She’s nothing but a Southern bender.”

A ball of fire is suddenly shot in his direction and the quickly man ducks to the ground in fear. Peering up from the snow, Zuko towers over the man menacingly with his hand ready to strike. “Want to say that again?”

“H-Hey, it was just a joke! Honest! She’s a really good water bender!” The man splutters. He screams in terror when another blast is shot his way, but it only lands on the side of him and narrowly misses his head.

“Don’t you forget it.”

While the wind was momentarily knocked out of you from the impact of the rock, you’re quick to recover and get back on your feet to fight. However, you falter at the sight of Galik standing before you. He holds a hand up in surrender to signal he has no intentions of fighting you, and so you do the same.

“This has gotten out of hand, Galik. You need to call off your troops,” you plead breathlessly. “We shouldn’t be fighting.”

“I’ve tried to be patient with you, y/n, but I can only do so much,” the older man admits with a sigh. “They deserve what’s coming to them.”

“I’m just as upset as you are about Maliq’s plan, but this isn’t the way to go. At the end of the day we’re all a family.”

“Family?! Did the Northern scum care when our water benders were desecrated by the raiders? Did they care when our Princess was taken from us by the Fire Nation? Did they care when your father lost his life in battle while their Chief got to hide behind a wall of ice? They are not our family, and you need to realize this before it’s too late.”

“If we continue on this way we’ll be proving them right!” You argue desperately. “We’ll only show them that we can’t handle our own affairs! Just stop this and I’ll make it right!”

“It’s much too late for that now, Princess. The situation has gotten out of hand and needs correction. You’ve done all you can to rectify the problem, but your judgement is clouded by your love for the Fire Lord. The ash maker has brainwashed you.”

“How dare you call him that?!” You yell fiercely, your blood boiling at the insult and your patience just about worn thin. “You’re the one that’s brainwashed if you truly believe such crazy conspiracies!”

“It’s not a conspiracy, it’s the truth! How many times have you let foreigners take advantage of you?! You risked your life to save Zuko’s and yet you are the one that carries the scars on your hands! You opened our home to the Northern scum and yet they wish to take the throne away from you! You’ve had your chance to do things your way, but it’s time for me to take over now, Chief.”

You notice his eyes are no longer focused on you but on something behind you, and you immediately react by whirling around and using a water whip to disable your approaching attacker before they can reach you. Your move sends them flying across the courtyard and into a nearby food stand. Guiltily, you make a mental note to pay the owner for the damages your attack has caused.

“Y/n!” Zuko calls as he rushes towards you. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, but Galik got away,” you huff in disappointment. Surveying the area, you notice that both the Northern siblings and your friends are missing from the square. “Where are the others?”

“I’m not sure, but they must have run after him.”

“I’m sorry things always seem to get out of hand when you visit the South,” you say with a demeaned frown. “I promise it’s not always like this.”

“Hey, it’s much better than the stuff I put you through when you visit the Fire Nation,” Zuko jokes in an attempt to lighten the situation. “You handle the stress of being a leader far better than I ever could.”

Smiling faintly, you give his hand a comforting squeeze before urging him out of the square. “Let’s go find Gilak.”

“Chief y/n, you have to come quick!” A guard calls from the distance, alerting you of her presence and interrupting your conversation with Zuko. The next words to come out of her moth are the last words you ever expected to hear, and they fill your stomach with dread when she shouts, “Hakoda’s been stabbed.”

| atla tags: @niktwazny303 @sirkekselord

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy

| fire lilies tags: @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch @docackerman @rinalsword

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's 12 Days of Ficmas: Day 3 Snow (Thomas Hewitt)

Day 3 of Ficmas coming right up!

Notes: Minors DNI, Fluffy, SFW, No specific pronouns or descriptions of reader used.

"It snows in Texas sugar, just not here". Is what Luda Mae told you when you first came to permanently live with the Hewitt's and you felt comfortable enough to pick her brain.

Once a lost college student like many others that happen upon the family, though saved by the fact that you and Thomas had grown rather attached to each other and Luda was just thrilled her baby finally had a chance to have a family.

"Thomas? can you believe it doesn't snow here?"

You had asked him one day from your spot perched onto an old work bench in the basement, while he butchered meat. He shot you a unimpressed look that spoke volumes of "Oh really, you don't say?"

"Oh well I guess you've lived here your entire life huh?"

You said, realizing your mistake. He nodded and gave a huffed laugh which caused you to also smile.

"Thomas stop! Don't laugh at me"

You defended reaching over to playfully swat at him. While laughing yourself. As someone who had grown up in a northern area where every winter was coated with fluffy white flakes, the idea of no snow at all was so foreign.

The lack of snow stuck with you until the day finally came when you stepped out of the old family house and could feel the familiar nip in the air. Luda had said that of course like most places it does get cold just usually no snow.

================================================

A hand on your shoulder shook you out of your sleep.

"Tommy stop"

You groaned without opening your eyes to look at your husband. He shook you slightly harder.

"ugh what Tommy? what time is it even?"

You asked cracking your eyes open to meet Thomas's brown orbs. Thomas gave you a grunt and pointed to the singular window in your shared bedroom. You looked at him confused.

"What is it Tommy?"

He shook his head and pointed to the window once again. This time with a commanding air about him. You rolled your eyes playfully but got out of bed never the less.

Your just haven awoken legs were shaky, so Tommy gave you a hand over to the window. You blinked the grogginess out of yours eyes and squinted to peer out of it.

You gasped when you noticed it, soft white flakes, falling out of the sky.

"Tommy" You exclaimed "It's snowing!"

Thomas made a happy noise from his spot beside you. Seeing you happy always made Tommy happy.

You should've known to be honest. The radio had talked all week about a monumental snow storm threatening to hit Texas. Even Hoyt and Mama had wanted to be prepared for it. The entire family had been prepping all week for the possible unprecedented storm.

"C'mon Tommy let's go outside!"

Thomas gave you a bewildered look, you laughed at him.

"What? you expected that you'd wake me up and I wouldn't wanna go outside?'

You both pulled on some semi warm clothes, winter clothes aren't really a thing, before slowly opening the door to your bedroom. You sneak down the hall and stairs being careful not to wake up the rest of the family as you make your way out the front door.

The only light outside is the soft glow from the kitchen light that Luda leaves on incase anyone needs to come downstairs to help them see their way around.

You walk to nearly the middle of the giant yard and gaze up into the sky, watching all the snow fall silently around you in the crisp night air.

"Tommy it's beautiful"

It was nearly a whisper, you didn't even think Tommy had heard you until you felt a presence behind you. You turned around and came face to face with Thomas.

"Hi Tommy"

He placed his giant hands onto your hips and held you in front of him as he got a good look at you. Snow flakes had begun to stick in your hair as you gazed up at the giant of a man through your eye lashes.

Thomas regularly would remember back to his childhood, when he would run home crying because of the kids who had picked on him and called him a freak over something he couldn't control.

Luda would tell him not to listen to their words and one day he wouldn't have to deal with them. She would say how one day he would find someone who would love him despite how he looked. Thomas never really believed his mother when she would tell him that, the only people he had ever interacted with had treated him cruel. Even Hoyt and Monty would have their moments.

If someone would have told Thomas back then that he would be standing in his front yard, while it was snowing with a person like you gazing up at him as if he was the best thing in the world. He would have probably thought they were the craziest person he'd ever met but despite all the odds here he was.

You laid your head on his broad chest. He brought a hand up from your hip to your head and carted his fingers through your hair.

There, in the cold winter air of Texas. You and Tommy had only two things on your minds.

Each other and the fresh fallen snow that symbolized more then just the cold.

[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Tyben oneshot

Simple, but fluff

Tyler sat cross legged on the floor next to Ben who was sitting on the bed. All the others went out to run errands, leaving Tyler and Ben hanging out together. 

The two don’t usually hang out alone. Tyler does like Ben. He’s quiet and easy to get along with (hard to believe he’s related to Aiden). And Ben found Tyler to be friendly enough, though rather intimidating. 

Ben sat on his bed and was fidgeting with the tuners on his guitar. 

Tyler tapped on the wall, the silence feeling stifling. 

“So, uh.. you play guitar?” Tyler asked gruffly. 

Ben looked over at him and hesitated before nodding. 

“What can you play?”

Ben looked at the guitar for a moment before awkwardly strumming Happy Birthday on the guitar. 

“Is.. that all?” Tyler asked, tilting his head. 

Ben looked down in disappointment and Tyler quickly jumped. 

“Uh, I mean, it was really good! I’m guessing you’re still learning? Impressive!”

Ben hesitated and looked up at Tyler and held up the guitar slightly. 

“Are you asking if I play?” 

Ben nodded. 

“When I was really little. But I was always better at sports than music.”

Ben offered him the guitar. Tyler hesitated before taking it and held it the wrong way, getting a small chuckle out of Ben. 

“Ya, all right. Sorry for judging you for only playing Happy Birthday. I have no idea what I’m doing,” Tyler said with a grin. 

Ben sat next to him and helped Tyler hold it correctly, then helped him position his hands. 

“Oh, uh.. thanks..” Tyler said awkwardly, turning his head to avoid eye contact. 

Ben smiled ever so slightly. He always found Tyler’s frustration with everything oddly endearing, but also concerning. Tyler reminded him of how he was when his vocal cords were destroyed. Ben just had to hope Tyler doesn’t ever have something similar that will throw him off the deep end and turn him into a violent person. 

Aggressive and violent were two different things..

“Ok, I think it’s coming back to me..” Tyler said and played an out of tune Smoke on the Water. “Or.. not..”

Ben snickered and helped him tune the guitar, his hand brushing against Tyler’s shoulder. 

“Hm..” Tyler murmured, attempting to play the song again and failing. “Do you wanna try?”

Ben nodded and took the guitar from him and played the song. 

“That was actually pretty good,” Tyler commented. “Um.. n-not that it’s surprising!” he tried to say quickly when he noticed the look Ben gave him. 

Ben smiled and shook his head in amusement before warming up with Hot Crossed Buns on the guitar and moving on to Jackson (though much slower with pauses in between). 

“Oh, Johnny Cash,” Tyler commented. “Good taste, for a northerner,” he said with a sharp grin. 

Ben croaked out a laugh and bumped his shoulder against Tyler’s. 

“I’m gonna have to take you out to play baseball with me since you’re showing me guitar. You ever play?”

Ben shook his head. 

I played basketball in elementary school he typed on his phone. 

“I never liked basketball. Or soccer. Or even football. Baseball is.. really the only sport I enjoy.”

Ben laid back on the bed to stretch out. 

I tried out baseball once. Nearly got hit in the head he typed out. 

Tyler laughed and laid down next to him. “I got hit in the head with a basketball!”

Ben chuckled and strummed his fingers on the guitar. 

“Did you start playing guitar as a form of getting out your passion of music because you can’t sing?”

The strumming stopped and Tyler wanted to kick himself. 

“Shit, Ben, I-I’m sorry-“ he said gruffly, quickly sitting up. He anxiously ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know where that.. I didn’t mean.. ugh..”

Ben didn’t move for a moment before slowly sitting up as well. He placed a hand on Tyler’s shoulder and attempted a reassuring smile. 

Tyler quickly looked away. 

You are right Ben typed. It is to be able to get out my desire to play music. 

Tyler stared at the message, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“I play baseball for my anger issues..” Tyler said gruffly. “I.. I can’t play basketball or soccer or even football because I’m too violent. With baseball, though.. I can take all my anger out on the ball..” he slowly looked up at Ben. “So, if you play guitar to get out your need to play music, and I play baseball to get out my anger.. I guess that something we do have in common..”

Ben blinked in surprise before slowly smiling and looking down. He let out a small laugh and leaned ever so slightly on Tyler, which caused him to jump. 

He was about to push him away, tell him that he didn’t like anyone being that close besides his sister. But upon seeing Ben’s face, a look of melancholy and exhaustion, he didn’t. Ben was.. a lot like him. The anger issues (though Ben was better at hiding his), them only getting their true wants through their hobbies, their protectiveness over the people they care about (especially family). 

Tyler found it oddly nice how similar he and Ben were. 

Suddenly the door burst open, causing both of them to jump up. 

“We’re back from our errands!” Aiden exclaimed. 

Ashlyn followed in from behind him. “Do you have to shout..?” she murmured. 

Logan and Taylor entered after them and Taylor smiled. “Hey, Tyler! Hey, Ben! Sorry we left you guys here for so long! You guys have fun?”

The two awkwardly looked at each other but smiled ever so slightly before nodding. 

“Ya..” Tyler said. “We had a good time..”

[writermai05]

Arsonist's Lullabye

Chapter 6: To Someone From A Warm Climate

Summary: Y/n and Azula get to know each other. 

Pairing: Zuko x fem! reader (Live Action or Animated) 

A/N: Hey hey hey guess who is not dead! My family flew in to come visit my sister and I in college, so I spent last weekend with them. There’s also a lot of crazy shit going on with the protest on my specific college campus, and I’ve been very hard on myself this week for not being productive, but when you’re in the middle of a debate over the lives of thousands of people, it’s hard to worry about the assignments and silly little fanfic you’re writing. Nevertheless, this chapter is here today, albeit a short one but I swear, shit is about to get so interesting. 

Word Count: 686

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot. Lots of divergence from the canon story lol. 

Warnings !: None I think. 

The post game dinner had gone about as well as it could have. Yeah, maybe it was a little awkward, but for the most part, everyone had a good time. Toph was easily able to power through the tournament, giving the University team a trophy for their first game of the season. You almost wished that the weekend had been longer to process the information you learned on Friday.

 The image of Zuko and Azula’s eyes flashed in your mind. It feels obvious that the two are siblings now. If their eyes weren’t enough, their black hair and intense aura should have given it away. As you take a seat in your shared sociology class, you notice Azula take the seat next to you once again. You catch her attention with a small smile. 

“How was your weekend?” 

“Oh, you know, just another thrilling weekend of staying in my dorm and avoiding all human contact.” 

You raised your eyebrows, nodding in mock awe, “Riveting stuff.” Azula smirked, letting a puff of air out through her nostrils.

“Did you manage to do something less boring with whatever freaks you hang out with?”

“Yes, I did.” Before you could have a chance to elaborate, your professor began to start their lesson for the day.

After your first week, this routine began getting stale. Every class period you sat through the lecture, worked with a partner, got lectured some more, and then worked on your own. Although, the unofficial assigned seats had worked in your favor, because then you got to know more about Azula, who had promptly started to sit next to you since your first meeting. 

“Interesting lesson, huh?” you venture, hoping to start up another hushed conversation. 

Azula’s response is sharp and right in character for how much you know. 

“Yes. So interesting that I’m trying not to fall asleep from the sheer excitement of it all. Yay social class!” You quietly chuckle in response. 

“I mean there’s definitely meaning to it. Agna Qel’a is the most technologically advanced place in the Northern Water Tribe. When my family moved there for my mother’s work, it was a complete culture shock. Sedna, where I’m from, is a small city. There’s a saying that goes, ‘Take care of the land, and it will take care of you in return.’ But Agna Qel’a is magnificent, and it’s where the chief's royal palace is. It’s modern and gorgeous, but expensive.” 

Azula pursed her lips, trying to sort out her own thoughts. 

“Our capital city is similar, but probably way more grandiose. That’s how we do things in the Fire Nation. Opulence, and luxury, but mostly concerned with ourselves and no other nations. They’re practically irrelevant.” 

“What was it like growing up?”

“The Fire Nation is warm, and never really changes as far as seasons go. Sun-kissed lands and a long, honorable history. My father owns a very large company. Agni Kai enterprises does its business around the world. Before, my brother was the one who was being groomed to take over for my father once he retired, but he chose not to. After he left, then it was all on me.”

Agni Kai Enterprises was no joke. You knew that they owned many smaller companies, and had stakes nearly everywhere in the world. From what you could remember, Agna Qel’a had several complexes owned by someone involved in Agni Kai Enterprises. 

“You have a brother?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. 

“His name is Zuko. Haven’t seen him since I was 10, and he was 12.” 

Learning this new piece of information, your mouth dropped open. Eight whole years have gone by since the two have seen each other. No wonder Zuko had to ask Mai and Ty Lee questions. At this point, there was no avoiding it. 

“I know Zuko. He’s in my other class.” Azula’s head turned so fast you thought she could’ve gotten whiplash. The look in her eyes was indistinguishable, except for the usual fiery gaze. 

Azula pursed her lips and squinted, her jaw was tense. You were sure that if she clenched any harder than she would break her teeth off. “Well that’s…interesting. I assume that he and my uncle are still living above that tea shop, right? It’s been ages. Perhaps I should make the effort to go visit my dear Zuzu.” 

[angelwheat]

The Mundane and the Magic

༻ a codz x reader story ༺

➶ The Giant // ❝ Self-righteous Suicide ❞

➶ Chapter Four , 4621 words

Wobbly legs failed to support her as she nearly toppled over onto icy ground from the sheer unsteadiness of being exported from reality for a brief second and zapped into a land unfamiliar. Evidently, the experience struck the four men just the same, for each of them stumbled, struggling to recompose themselves as their heads were virtually spinning.

Hunching over where she stood, the girl pressed her hands to her hips, fighting to keep the bile down that she could feel bubbling up inside. Allowing the motion sickness to subside, she stayed put for a moment, listening to the men huff and grumble in displeasure.

After a short while she straightened her posture, smoothing down her hair that had blown askew at such a surprisingly harsh motion of blending through the linear fabrics of the universe.

Observing the foursome spaced out around her, (Y/n) noticed that the German appeared the most well composed out of them all, somewhat strangely unbothered by the experience of being teleported. Perhaps he was fortunate enough not to feel the sickening effects so strongly… or maybe he’s used to it.

The fact that he looked so unaffected but merely swayed for a second was enough to taunt the boys who almost landed with their faces in heaps of snow.

Dempsey staggered to composure, spitting his words at the German. “What the fuck was that Doc?”

Richtofen bit his tongue, infuriated with the American’s persistent use of his abbreviated title.

“Time travel.” He answered bluntly, looking down to smooth his attire.

“Yeah, no shit.” Dempsey coughed into his arm.

Nikolai had readied his shotgun the very second his eyes could focus steadily on his surroundings.

Immediately, the location struck as new, and eerie without a doubt, for there were tall, fully constructed buildings surrounding them, unlike the crumpled monuments seen prior to their hasty departure from Northern France.

These buildings towered high, some ranging from two, to perhaps three or four floors. The location appeared to be a group of factories; guess-ably of use for constructive purpose for the German army, for the writings on metal signs were stamped with painfully long words in Deutsch, that only Richtofen could make sense of.

Now they stand in the centre of the grounds, in a courtyard. A wide elevated steel platform stands a small distance away, with stairs leading up to a large machine, somewhat resembling the teleporter they had just been thrown into. Connected to the contraption were three chunky electrical cables, adorned with thick icicles along their length, which separated and lead to three mainframe facilities equal distance from each other. What they were connected to was as good as anyone’s guess.

Questions began to rattle around their heads as they observed their surroundings.

“Where are we German?” The Russian growled.

If Nikolai were to lock eyes with the Doctor, his deadly glare would kill him. But instead, Takeo eyed the German suspiciously, waiting for his predictable short-handed answer.

“We have arrived at a research facility.” Richtofen answered, as simply as predicted. “On the outskirts of Eastern Germany.”

The girl side-eyed him in disdain. His will to speak simply, almost like he was dimming down his intelligence to match that of the rest of the crew, or his frequent use of compulsive riddles and metaphors was already driving her mad, and she had only known him for a month or so.

Although now that time travel was brought into the equation, she could have very well known Richtofen for an eternity after discovering that shifting timelines and potentially re-writing history was entirely possible.

“What are we doing here, Richtofen?” She asked flatly.

All eyes landed on her when she spoke but flicked to the German when he shifted on his feet.

“I- We need to collect something.” Richtofen stammered, his eyes widening slightly.

The small slip up of his words raised wariness instantly, especially in Nikolai and Takeo for they narrowed their gazes at him in sync.

It fell eerily silent as all four pairs of eyes stared down the German, intimidating him as they all awaited a follow up speech explaining just what he needs to “collect”.

When he had no indication of opening his mouth to speak, Richtofen took a step forward, only to be brought to a halt when the barrel of Nikolai’s shotgun came mere inches from his chest before he could even blink.

“Explain why you have brought us here, German. You’ve been feeding us nothing but riddles!” Nikolai’s accent thickened, lacing his words with a menacing tone in his burst of rage.

Dempsey, Takeo and (Y/n) stepped up alongside the Russian, but none wanted to console the brute, instead believing he was right in resorting to a more threatening manner of interrogation. Richtofen raised his hands up in feeble surrender, his chest heaving as he stared down the thick barrel of the gun aimed at him.

“I can explain in time.” Richtofen answered hastily. “That I promise.”

Nikolai shook his head, his jaw setting in a sharp line. “I’ve heard that one to many times already. I do not believe you have any good intentions.”

The Russian adjusted his stance, planting his feet firmly on the ground, his gloved finger grazing the trigger on his gun, prepared to put a bullet in his chest without a second thought.

(Y/n) could have sworn she saw a plead for mercy in Richtofen’s usually dull eyes, hoping he can be granted some leeway, and a chance to move without the men of the group virtually always breathing down his neck, for he stared between her and the weapon threatening him rather quickly.

Perhaps not this time.

While (Y/n) had been lenient in the beginning, simply following him blindly as a means of keeping everyone alive, however, it now seems that she’s growing just as impatient as the boys. Richtofen had certainly foreseen this.

“Alright, easy now.” The girl intervened with a firm voice, her hand reaching to lower the shotgun Nikolai held. “We know that killing each other isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

Visibly infuriated, and practically steaming from the ears with boiling rage, Nikolai huffed loudly and retracted from the group, allowing Richtofen to lower his hands and exhale a long breath.

The girl dismissed the way the Doctor stared at her for a second, and instead focused on Nikolai in concern, albeit even wary of his next move.

His broad shoulders noticeably rose and fell with every heaving breath he took as he simmered down the fiery rage within him.

She could understand his dramatic actions for the world was flipped upside before their very eyes in a matter of seconds, and at this very moment in time, any action, no matter how drastic, could be deemed as justified.

Just when everything seemed tranquil, the sound of glass shattering made all unleash their firearms.

Staggered footsteps across icy ground emitted a small distance away, gradually growing closer. A stumbling decomposing corpse hauled itself through a beaten down wooden barrier. Yet another fallen soldier to have become a victim to the brain-rotting infection. But it seemed lost. Although it appeared to have retained some memory of marching; as the man would have done alongside his platoon before the outbreak.

Though given the unpredictability of the zombie, all but one keeps their weapons aimed steadily.

From what the girl could tell from discreet glances, Richtofen appeared to be studying the creature, or perhaps he was awaiting its next violent move. She had learned that he was not an easy man to read, at least not through his expressions, for he typically appeared emotionless.

She missed the way the Doctor rolled his eyes and swiftly breezed past the crew with his arm raised and pistol loaded to gun the zombie down with a single bullet its head.

With a heft thud, the lifeless creature dropped to the floor, the heap of snow its head landed in now absorbing the blood pouring from the gaping hole in its skull.

Richtofen holstered his pistol, turning to face the group looking utterly unimpressed when he was met with four scorned faces.

“I would simply suggest killing them when you see them.” He instructed blankly. “Research shows that they do in fact sense presence sooner or later.”

Silence enveloped once again, and (Y/n) felt herself shivering as the wind whisked through much stronger than before, creating an eerie whistle as it crawled through crevices in buildings. Her intolerance to the cold failed to go unnoticed as Richtofen witnessed her body quiver, and she pulled her coat snugly to her body.

“We must not waste time. There is much to be done.” Edward asserted, wanting nothing more than to hasten his own mission.

As much as the Doctor tried to ignore the thought, he wished to get the girl somewhere warmer, or at least direct her there if he could not escort her himself. He would not dare to admit that part of him felt a fondness for her, especially for her will to seek justice between the crew.

“Might I also suggest we search for supplies.” Richtofen added. “I’m sure we’ll be needing them.”

As if his queue to leave, Richtofen spun on his heel and made his way towards the central facility.

Dempsey made a hasty move to follow the German, but a light touch of a hand pressing to his arm had pulled him to an abrupt stop. He turned, only to be met with a look of annoyance from the girl.

He immediately opened his mouth to argue before she raised her hand to halt his words.

“I think we should leave him be.” She spoke generally.

The American stared at her in disbelief. “You’re gonna let him run off?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s not gonna run off.”

Dempsey’s hands flew out beside him in confusion and frustration. “Then what- “

Cutting him off swiftly, she declared, “If he doesn’t separate from us for a while, I think he’ll get killed.”

(Y/n) discreetly motioned to Nikolai with her eyes, who had his back turned at the time, prompting Dempsey to scoff and shake his head in annoyance, knowing very well that she was correct.

As flakes of snow fluttered down into her eye view, she peered upwards, sensing an impending snowstorm brewing above. Takeo had followed her gaze skyward, thinking just the same as clouds tumbled in thicker, hiding away the stars that barely glimmered in the evening sky.

“I’m gonna go look for supplies.” She told, wanting nothing more than to find somewhere warmer to roam.

Like her feet carried her away automatically, (Y/n) turned her back and began traipsing carefully over the snow towards a building. The doors to the main entrance virtually inviting her in as they were wide open.

Barely two seconds had passed before Dempsey’s cocky accent caught up to her.

“Woah woah, you’re not going alone missy.”

She could hear the way he spoke with a smirk on his face, and faced him immediately, quipping. “What? You don’t think I can handle myself?”

Tank’s eyes widened subtly upon sensing the stares from Takeo and Nikolai. (Y/n) couldn’t help the way she bit her lip in amusement as the American visibly regret his choice of words and fumbled to find a believable excuse.

But little did she know that Nikolai had turned away slightly to hide the way he smirked to himself, not wanting to have Dempsey bark at him in retaliation to finding his visible embarrassment amusing, but also, secretly, because of the way she held herself in that very moment. With her hand on her hip, almost proudly, as the corner of her lips curled up smugly. It made his heart skip a beat.

“What- No!” Tank breathed a faint awkward laugh, averting his eyes. “I just think we should stick together.”

(Y/n) shrugged. “Very well then, we’ll go in pairs. We can cover the grounds quicker.”

The three men perked up instantly, eyeing her attentively.

“Feel free to join me, but I’ve gotta get somewhere warm before I freeze to death.” She resumed walking away, this time much quicker as the cold air was nipping at her through her coat.

The trio exchanged blank glances, silently questioning whether to follow her footsteps. Yet not one of them dared to move, even though the girl had already entered the building.

That was until Nikolai wasted no time in taking a step forward, his boots imprinting the settled snow as he swiftly headed in the same direction as (Y/n).

In his wake, Nikolai left two men frustrated, with Dempsey visibly turning his nose up at the fact that the Russian had beat him to the same idea.

“That settles it then.” Dempsey grumbled, trudging past Takeo displeased. “Let’s just search this damn place.”

---

Hefty footsteps emitted behind her in a hasty manner, although not like the jagged pattern of a zombie. Despite how quick the person was walking; their steps had a steady pattern. She glanced over her shoulder, brows raised, only to be struck with surprise upon seeing the Russian following her path. She smiled politely when he reached her side, to which she earned the same in return.

“I was half expecting to see Dempsey behind me.” She admitted.

Nikolai couldn’t help the lie that slipped from his tongue. “He had agreed to pair with Takeo.”

(Y/n) nodded, oblivious to the fact that Nikolai was merely eager to join her.

Standing side-by-side, together they surveyed the room. From its spacey layout, and the huge vents surrounding a furnace central of a partially walled off section, it could be guessed that it was none other than a storage room, or perhaps a place that materials were discarded and burned for ashes littered the feet of the caged firepit. She couldn’t refrain from spluttering and covering her nose at the putrid smell that wafted from the furnace, one would assume the previous occupants were incinerating bodies what with such a foul smell.

A few crates and barrels lie on their sides, some of their contents spewed out and trampled across the floor, most of which were papers, scrapped rusty components, and bullet shells. Upon closer inspection, (Y/n) surmised that the bullets were splayed recently for not a drop of dirt covered one, and Nikolai had noticed this too.

“There was bloodshed here recently.” Nikolai thought aloud, moving forward a few steps.

(Y/n) hummed. “But the question is, where these people killing each other, or zombies?”

The thought of an army, once forged together by loyalty and discipline, turning on each other utterly driven to madness as the world collapsed, and people turned to flesh-eating murderers before their very eyes.

“I dread to think of it.” Nikolai responded, watching the girl as she crouched to view a crumpled sheet of paper.

Steel catwalks above their heads creaked and popped as the wind breezed through holes in the doors and walls, nudging its every obstacle with vengeance what with the force it was brewing up. Parts of the structure had already fallen from its rightful place, lying in piles of debris in random areas, the building being entirely torn apart by the harsh weather alone.

“We best not stay here too long.” Nikolai told. “My guess is that this place will be nothing but rubble before we know it.”

A fairy-light clink hit their ears, and as if ironically on queue a bolt from an overhead beam hit the floor, bouncing astray into a pile of ash. The pair locked eyes warily at the timing.

“Let’s see if there’s anything useful and get out of here.” (Y/n) urged.

Nikolai nodded and began his own deconstructive way of searching.

Little time had passed, and they had each found a great supply of fresh ammunition to be shared amongst the crew. Not being able to carry such a heavy amount of munitions between them means they resorted to shifting the supply crates to an area more safely accessible, for the crew to return to instead.

While (Y/n) had her hands elbow deep in a crate, she pondered on the earlier encounter with a raging Nikolai in the courtyard. His seething expression and merciless intentions to kill Richtofen remained permanently in her mind.

Knowing that she doesn’t fear the Russian in the slightest, for he has shown nothing but loyalty and kindness to her throughout the few weeks of knowing him, more so than he has shown anyone else, (Y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if Nikolai would have followed through with his drastic intentions if she had not intervened.

She looked his way, catching the way he swiftly averted his eyes to the crate he stood searching, taking herself aback when she felt her heart skip a beat.

Pushing away the thought of the mere instance, she called out to him. “Nikolai?”

The gentle way his name sounded when it fell from her lips made his rounded eyes met hers, prompting her to speak but the words were lodged in her throat as his eyes captivated and shimmered in the dim light the furnace glowed.

“You know I don’t blame you for nearly killing Richtofen earlier.” She declared with all sincerity.

However, the Russian scowled instantly.

(Y/n) watched as Nikolai drew in a deep breath, pressing his palms to the edge of the wooden crate.

“Richtofen is beginning to test my patience. What with all his riddles…” He told in his gruff voice.

“Tell me about it.” She muttered, fiddling with a bullet she had picked up.

“But I fear we are descending into madness by following his orders.” He admitted. “And I’m finding it nearly impossible to have any ounce of faith in his intentions.”

Something about the way Nikolai held himself in that moment struck her strange. He began to softly drum on the crate, his lips pressing into a line when he turned his attention back to the equipment before him. It seemed like there were words on the tip of his tongue, yet he could not allow them to fall past his lips.

(Y/n) chewed the inside of her cheek, staring blankly at the bullet she held, ruminating on his words.

“Do you believe that Richtofen has good intentions?” Nikolai blurted out.

The girl instantly locked eyes with him, noticing how serious he looked with such a hard-faced expression. His question made her ponder for a minute.

“I can’t say.” She answered truthfully. “He’s acting suspicious, that’s for sure. And God knows what he’s up to right now.”

Nikolai only nodded, acknowledging her.

“But let’s just get on with what we need to do. I’m already tired of stressing about his next move.”

Something sent a pang of guilt through the Russian. If the girl had not turned her eyes away, she would have seen the pitiful look on his face.

(Y/n) huffed and tossed small components back into the crate, walking briskly past Nikolai, and over to a smaller one yet to be searched on the opposite side of the room.

Another clink of a falling screw went unheard of as her footsteps overpowered the faint tap of metal hitting the ground. That was until the piercing sound of steel screeching, peeling away from the lengthy catwalk above their heads, a support beam overhead came barrelling down at an alarming speed driving terror straight through her as she froze beneath the collapsing structure.

She opened her mouth to scream, but she was voiceless.

Two hands gripped her sides firmly and dragged her out from under the beam’s line of fall, to which the enormous steel bar slammed to the floor with a deafening clang, rattling and shaking every inch of the building upon impact.

Riddled with sheer terror, the girl could not control the way she collapsed into the body of someone.

Nikolai almost toppled at the quick pace he moved, his back connecting harshly with the wall and audibly knocking the air from his lungs, his arms remaining locked around the girl in his arms.

Subconsciously, (Y/n) had pressed her palms to his chest to break her fall, and while still unable to comprehend such a flash of events, her mouth hung agape as she panted heavily. She could barely register a thing, feeling a dizzy sensation as she stared at Nikolai, her face full of fright at the thought of being crushed.

The Russian was worried that she could feel the way his heart was beating like a banging drum at such sudden closeness, but when her eyes dropped to see her hands planted firmly just below his shoulders, she came to her senses and almost jumped back out of embarrassment.

“O-oh my god, I’m sorry!” (Y/n) began to fret, adrenaline still rushing through her, causing such jittery movements.

She snapped around to observe the wreckage of the catwalk, that was once situated above their heads, now in a heap of itself, entirely blocking an exit route from the building.

“Are you alright?” Nikolai’s deepened voice called to her in pure concern.

When (Y/n) turned, she saw his face contoured with stress, and a hand readied to place on her shoulder, however, stopping himself when she nodded with a heavy sigh. She planted her hands on her hips, letting her head bow and eyes fall shut as she calmed herself.

“Thank you, Nikolai.” She breathed, wiping a hand over her face. “I owe you one.”

However, his face was flushed red as the thought of being so close together remained permanently etched into his mind. Unbeknownst to Nikolai, (Y/n) wouldn’t dare lock eyes with him, feeling the same embarrassment and awkwardness of being pressed so tightly to someone she hardly knew.

Neither of them could bring themselves to move as awkwardness was eating them up inside.

As if relieving them of the tense situation, Dempsey, tailed closely by Takeo, barged through the doorway atop the stairwell nearby, out of breath and clutching rifles tightly.

“We’ve got company.” Dempsey informed loudly, his voice gruff and stern. “Get your asses out here.”

Apparently, the crashing noise was enough to alert the stray undead swarms nearby, for they were filtering in through any access point possible, with some of them even tearing of their own decaying limbs as they came through or impaling themselves on broken barricades.

Equipping their weapons swiftly, (Y/n) bolted for the stairs that lead to a vantage point, with Nikolai tailing behind. She breezed past Dempsey, and took position beside Takeo, who had found excellent position that allowed for quick and easy shots to the heads of zombies.

With the team regrouped the hordes were cleared strangely fast. Typically, swarms came in frequent waves, virtually endless, but this time the air stilled. Not a groan or cry was heard from a zombie around. Even some of the boys moved to peer through open barriers, surveying the area, but they soon reeled themselves back to the group with their brows knit in confusion.

“Strange.” Takeo spoke aloud in his husky voice. “The land is silent.”

(Y/n) acknowledged Takeo and hummed in agreement, both vigilantly looking over their shoulders for approaching danger.

“So, did you guys find anything?” She asked, filtering her attention between the other pair.

Tank shrugged, looking a bit defeated. “A little. Couple cans of food, but that’s about it. This place is deserted if you ask me. We ain’t gonna find much.”

(Y/n) sighed in disappointment, the idea of a delicious homecooked meal seemed so far out of reach. She’s certain the men craved something more than just a measly can of beans, and even then, it’s typically shared amongst the five of them, barely subsidising the painful hunger.

Clicking of a gun being reloaded sounded. It was Dempsey loading his sidearm. While keeping his focus on what he occupied himself with, he spoke.

“What about you? Find anything?”

A response was on the tip of her tongue, but her own mind caught her off guard, teasing the image of her body pressed against Nikolai’s, and the way his gorgeous blue eyes stared deeply into her own. Vividly recalling the way his large, gloved hands rested softly on her sides, supporting her knees that dared to buckle under the weight of embarrassment. She felt her hands begin to clammer up at the intrusive thought, wiping them subconsciously on her coat.

When (Y/n) never responded, Dempsey’s little task in his hands halted as he peered through his eyebrows at her.

“We found stashes of ammunition, but not much else.” Nikolai had interjected.

Mentally, the girl thanked him for taking the words she failed to speak, however, feeling more awkward when she saw Dempsey eyeing her suspiciously.

Starling her, Takeo breezed past silently, moving to a cracked glass window that overlooked the storage room. Apparently something had caught his attention from afar. He observed the sight of the wreckage of the fallen catwalk; it certainly stuck out compared to the feeble clutter in the room.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the way her feet carried her towards him.

Sensing that she was standing a small distance from him, Takeo spoke.

“We heard a crash on the opposite side of the facility. Was it this?”

Takeo sounded so genuine, strangely. His speech was typically blunt and didn’t have much change in low tones.

“It was the catwalk that collapsed. The place is falling apart at the seams.” She answered briefly.

Takeo nodded in acknowledgment. He had suspicions that the rumbling noise of steel landing with such a mighty force had alerted the chaotic number of undead creatures.

(Y/n) stared blankly at the structure below, somewhat in a daze when she confessed. “I was standing underneath it when it fell.”

Dempsey and Takeo pivoted to face the girl simultaneously, their shoulders visibly tensed and eyes almost bulging.

Snapping back to her senses, she forced a smile as she quickly reassured, “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Both relaxed in sync, breathing relieved sighs.

“But I have to say that I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for Nikolai pulling me out of there.” She told, looking at the Russian sincerely. “I really owe him one.”

In that moment she hoped that the frosty air nipping at her skin had already tinted her cheeks a rosy hue, for she could feel a burning fluster rising from her chest. A smile threatened to tug at Nikolai’s lips as he glanced her way.

No one had seen Dempsey’s eyes practically burning fire as he snapped a dirty look towards Nikolai.

“Alright, enough with the sappy ‘who saved who’s life’ shit now.” Dempsey blurted out bitterly. “We’ve got shit to do.”

Thudding footsteps followed as Dempsey stormed off out of the building with his assault rifle under a mighty grip and chest puffed in hot rage. Takeo looked to (Y/n) who stood tall by Nikolai, only to be scrutinising the Russian with his intensive eyes before stalking out with a huff.

The girl knit her brows in confusion.

It could be said that Dempsey was known for his ability to lose his temper quickly, and few times she had seen his anger get the better of him, but Takeo’s strange reaction struck her differently. She had never seen him give anyone, but Richtofen, such a fierce glare.

“What was that about?” (Y/n) asked, sounding somewhat bewildered.

Nikolai swallowed hard, struggling to muster a response when she looked at him with beady eyes, hoping for an answer.

Unfortunately, the Russian knew all to well just what sparked Dempsey and Takeo to be so infuriated, with him only.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say they seemed jealous.” She spoke aloud.

 Oh, but how jealous they were, and that’s only the beginning of it.

[japhan2024]

my gift to @lesbianphan for the @phandomgiftexchange <3

Title: Home Words: 1,612 Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort Plot: Dan visits Phil for the first time

Link to AO3

The train to Manchester was crowded. Stressed, sweaty businessmen discussed the firm on their phones, while rowdy teens were shoving each other around as preppy college kids looked at them with an air of superiority and disdain. Moms with screaming children, elderly couples performatively complaining about kids these days. Among all of this bustle, a boy sat next to the window, trying to ignore it all.

He wore a black jacket and gray jeans, but his white sneakers contradicted his effort to look inconspicuous. His sleek and shiny dark brown hair kept falling over his eyes. The countryside looked dull and matte through the graffitied glass of the train window. And his seat didn't allow for his long limbs to sit comfortably. He listened to Muse with one ear while checking his watch over and over, Bellamy's urgent arpeggio's mimicking his heartbeat.

But it was going to be okay, right? Dan Howell's only lifeline was pulling him in. Soon, he'd see the guy with the ocean eyes.

"Manchester Piccadilly Station," the voice ran through to Dan's bones and he awkwardly stood up, saying sorry over and over as he made his way to the door.

"Okay, Dan, this is it... Try to look normal and not weird," he thought to himself. 

From seemingly far away, Dan heard his name being called. He looked around the station, people queueing away from the train. But there was one person struggling upstream towards him.

"Phil..." Dan said feebly. The world spun around him for a moment, but then a very tight hug squeezed him to his senses.

"Dan! There you are," the voice of the person hugging him said. It was a wonderful, Northern accent and a deep timbre that stirred something within Dan he hadn't known was there.

When the hug loosened, Dan didn't want to let go but he didn't want to be weird either. It was already weird enough that he traveled half the country to have a sleepover at some older guy's house.

It wasn't just SOME guy, though. Dan had worked hard for this. Consistent and insistent comments, picture replies and tags, day in, day out. Dan had been relentless and finally, his internet idol had noticed him. They started talking, and that had brought Dan to this moment. To meet him, finally! AmazingPhil.

Once Phil's face came into focus, Dan couldn't believe that his eyes were even bluer in person. He was tall too, even though he hunched over a bit. His black hair the total opposite of his skin. With a crooked smirk and warm, open body language, Phil immediately felt like home. And Dan fell head over heels, harder than he'd thought when this was still all kind of a fantasy. The Skype calls, the messaging back and forth... nothing beat the reality in which they now both stood. Dan felt dizzy...

"So bright..."

"Yeah, I guess it's really light here. My parents' house is kind of dark though, it's sort of haunted as well. Aaaah! You'll probably love it. But yeah haha... Want me to show you the city?"

Dan nodded. Phil smiled genuinely at him, and he was overcome again with how bright that smile was.

"You are probably thirsty from your long trip! Let's go to Starbucks."

"Oh yes, I love Starbucks," Dan managed in a small voice.

"You do?" Phil looked at him excitedly. "It's my favorite place. I love the caramel macchiato."

"I like the chocolate chip cookies..."

They walked a short while and went inside the pretentious hipster coffee shop that was Starbucks, but that was okay because both Dan and Phil always tried to look like hipsters anyway. But they weren't, not really. They were creatures of the internet, nerds even. And once they both had a drink and were lounging in their seats, they found that they got along extremely well.

"Oh my god, Delia Smith is the best!"

"Isn't she? I wish I could bake, though, I will burn soup if you leave me with it in the kitchen for too long."

"That is so like me, hahaha. Oh my god. Imagine if Delia had a DailyBooth?"

"I would follow DeliaBooth in an instant!"

They both laughed. They were very well aware that they were both gay guys. But in public they made sure to loudly proclaim their love for women. Delia Smith, the celebrity chef, was an undeniable icon, though.

"I am imagining Delia Smith with your face."

"Phil, what the fuck?" Dan howled laughing. He surprised himself. Because he hadn't laughed like this, in.... Yeah. For as long as he could remember. It was a good feeling.

~

Phil's parents were away.

His room was a mess, which Dan was delighted by. His own parents were very strict when it came to tidying up. Phil had a cordless hammer drill, a poster of the movie Kill Bill, a bunch of stuffed animals Dan recognized from his YouTube videos, and a blue lava lamp. On a cluttered desk stood a very old video camera.

"Oh my god! That's the camera you got in a box of cereal!"

Phils eyes lit up and started rehashing the whole story, even though Dan knew it by heart. 

Dan listened to Phil talk about all his stuff like he was breathing oxygen. It was one thing to connect with someone online. But even FaceTiming didn't come close to the connection that was starting to form between them now, in real life.  

"Your room is really cool," he blurted out.

"You think so? Thanks, Dan," Phil said. He walked up to Dan, making him feel all dizzy again. Phil flipped his fringe back and smiled, very closely to Dan's face. He looked him straight in the eyes, and Dan sensed that he was a little nervous.

"Wanna test out my bed?" Dan's whole body seemed to blush, he had never felt this love, this desire for anyone else.

~

It was morning and Dan was the first to wake up.

For a minute, he didn't dare to open his eyes. What if it had all been just a dream, cruelly making Dan believe he could be happy like this? His last happy memory was Christmas at his grandma's, getting a big piece of chocolate from her, even though his parents protested. He'd eaten the whole thing in one go. His grandma had given him a wink. After that, he just remembered feeling numb.

Years.

But then Dan felt Phil shift his arm against him. Dan's eyes sprung open and he saw the ceiling of Phil's room. He let out a laugh, and simultaneously a sob, of relief. He swallowed. This was real. He cuddled against Phil and held him as close as possible.

"Hey," Phil said as he finally woke up and sat in bed, voice still groggy. His hair was a beautiful black mess. His eyes somehow even bluer than yesterday. And they were kind, loving, accepting. Dan could stare into them forever, he felt. He could drown in those eyes and be totally content.

"Phil... I... I-"

A short, soft kiss.

"Let's get some breakfast, shall we?"

"Yeah, yes. Let's."

They got dressed and walked into the kitchen. Phil poured them both a bowl of cereal.

"You have to close the cabinet doors when you're done, you know," Dan said as he got up to close them for Phil. Phil giggled.

"What? I'm being serious," Dan protested. But Phil just stood up and tied Dan in a hug again.

"Wh- what's that for," Dan actually didn't care, he just loved Phil hugging him.

"For being the cutest guy I've ever met," Phil's voice was as velvet to Dan's ears.

Dan had to tell him. He brushed through Phil's unruly manes. "Phil? You're the only person in my life who truly accepts me."

"Dan..."

Dan held on tighter. He started to sob.

"All through middle school, high school, I've been bullied, called gay, called worse than that, I even got beaten up, and all I ever could think was, that they must be right, I must be bad and deserving of their punishment. Until I met you- until I met you I never knew anyone who I could just be myself with, so completely... And not be judged? Not be corrected, criticized or, or made fun of..."

They were both crying now.

"And at home it's not exactly fun either. I'm kind of invisible, unless i make a mistake, then it's a game who can put me down the most..."

"Listen, Dan, I l-, you can stay with me for as long as you want, forever even. I never want to let you go, to be honest."

"I'd do-, I'd love to believe that," Dan stammered.

"Want to watch some old Ninjai videos?"

"Yes please."

~

That afternoon, Dan had to return home. He packed his stuff. Phil came into the room, holding something behind his back.

"Here, I have too many of these around the house anyway. Please take him with you."

It was a small stuffed lion.

"Ohh, I love him! Phil, I'll keep it close until I'll see you again... That's if... Will I see you again?"

"Dan! Of course! I wish you didn't have to go home."

"My home's with you now."

Dan went back into the bustling of the station and the once again crowded train.

But he knew now that he could go to Phil's house at any time. It was a safe place that felt so good, indeed like home, more so than his actual one. And from that day on, Dan had just a little bit more confidence, knowing he had a place to return to.

[heathened]

tagged by the blessed n beautiful @musicandmasochism thanks babe<3 under a cut bc i kinda went off lol

When was the last time you cried? i am going to be real. it was during the first 20 minutes of troy when i watched it last night lmfao

Do you have kids? unless you count the feral child assassin that is actually my cat, no

Do you use sarcasm a lot? noooooooooooo never

What sports do you play? don't rlly play sports so much as do activities, which are cycling, yoga, taking neighborhood walks (i cannot sing the praises of 'take a little walk for your mental health' enough), and dancing in my kitchen

What’s the first thing you notice about people? prob what they're wearing tbh. and i hope thats what they notice about me<3

What’s your eye color? void brown

Scary movies or happy endings? both?? not together probably lol, but obviously Blog With A Saw Icon loves horror movies. and yet i am also a simp for the people's queen austin powers so i am not immune to it all working out

Any special talents? people irl think i am funny (they don't know my humor is just tumblr posts and lil wayne bars but nonetheless), i think i am particularly good at 2 things: making a sauce and cultivating a vibe lmao

Where were you born? northern california

What are your hobbies? above activities, music (you guys ever heard of this? incredible. ya gotta check it out), uhhhh learning hobbies tbh lol...for the funsies of it all, i've taught myself/learned how to knit, wallpaper, javascript, translate latin, garden, leatherwork, macramé, graphic design, clothing repair, and prob many more niche things in the name of a beloved personal project. oh yeah! i guess i'm a Writer™ or w/e so technically. i like writing more than i don't like it

Do you have pets? a tortoiseshell menace named ahsoka/snips/snippy/sniperella/baby

How tall are you? 5'7"/170cm, tho if i'm not wearing like. Statement Shoes™ with a heel, i am almost always wearing my black boots that add another 2 inches or so. no matter what i usually have a tall vibe hehe

Favorite subject in school? did very well in school and i am litr on my second graduate degree lmao so i'll be honest i love school (it is how i managed to evade an adhd diagnosis until my late 20s like catherine zeta-jones and those lasers)

Dream job? shout out to a mantra of all time: i simply do not dream of labor. BUT it has occurred to me a lot lately that i actually would have been a great production designer because it's basically Vibe Setting as a job and requires 2 things i love: research and continuity

tagging hmmmmmmmm @wutheringdyke @unspuncreature @lovthievs @spouseoftherisingsun n @underthewirez <3333

[sircesimblr]

Stam: Am I? Already bubbling with love for her? Haha, I guess I am. I do. When I look in the mirror, I can see her face right next to mine. I feel I can ask her things, I feel I want to listen to her, even when I've just woken up. She feels familiar. And I also think I may have seen her before, when she was in the bistro with her friend. You know, the singer from the band.

Manon: She has a friend in a band? Like, a troubadour-friend? My goodness. Rachel, dear, dear Rachel, please be careful. Don't mingle with such people until you've got your husband. These kind of things can reflect badly upon your pure self.

Stam: Don't worry. It is a really great band. Having such a friend cannot harm Rachel's virtue, haha, if that's what your concerned about. But please, let's talk about me. Tell Rachel something nice. Why am I the most rounded package she can get? Haha. Not fishing for compliments or anything.

Klaus-Ove: Obviously.

Manon: Where do I begin? First of all, Miss Rachel, this man might be a prince! His fair Northern mother, a hardworking nurse, met a tall and dark stranger in Al Simhara, who never revealed his name. I mean, look at Mr. Hardenes: that must have been a prince!

Stam: Let's not talk about the guy who knocked my mother up. He could just as well have been a troubadour, Miss de La Haye. I've never met him.

Manon: Oh? Yes, you've been raised by your dear mother alone, but surely you must feel, a certain kind of nobility... in your veins...

Stam: Nope.

Manon: But your looks!

Stam: Ah. My looks. I don't really care about that. Neither does Rachel I'm sure. I'm proud I have my mum's eyes and I'm proud I am strong and never ill, so I can pursue my dreams and be a good son to my beloved mother. She's my everything.

Manon: You don't care about it, yet you look in the mirror long enough to imagine your dream wife's face beside your own.

Stam: I practise my charisma skills.

Manon: I'm sure you do. Early in the morning. Right out of bed. I'm sure you practise your athletic skills too, not to build those fine muscles I notice beneath your far too gaudy shirt, but to...

Stam: Do you have any idea how hard the work of a chef is? If you don't keep your body in shape, you'll simply perish preparing meals. You won't make it a single night. Besides, I told you, I don't care about looks. All I aspire my body to be in the future, is soft and chubby, so my kids can use me as a teddybear or a trampoline, or a doormat, for all I care. I want to be the greatest dad in the world. I want to be the dad I never had. I want to be the dad that should have supported my mother every step of the way.

Manon: Goodness me, I knew you wanted a family. But this... So, one really has to read between the lines, with your person. And all these jobs you have, the whole rigmarole, besides being, simply put, gorgeous, all that is not to get ahead of others, nor to behave like a gentleman should, it is...

Stam: I'm just skilling up for the future I want. Making a name while I'm still single. But when I've found my love, and my home becomes a reality, and I hold my first baby in my arms, all falls second to that. And then I will be prepared. I will be so prepared. It will be nothing but happiness.

Manon: Oh, all the heavens above me. An airmonger.

Klaus-Ove and Orbin: Wow, man.

Stam: I thought you'd seen all that in me, Miss, when you said I was the total package for Rachel.

Manon: Oh, sweetheart... And you cared for your mother, when she had what you call a "burn out", when you were young? Twice?

Stam: I did. Why?

Manon: No... nothing. Just another thing Rachel needs to know. Something about an apple and a tree. Never mind. Let's... let's proceed and present the last of you. Mister Klaus-Ove Larsen, please come up here, you carefree looking pup.

Stam: I won't get to address Rachel myself, like Orbin did?

Manon: Well..., you can still try. We surely have another minute, haven't we, gentlemen? There, go ahead, Mr. Hardenes.

Stam: Okay. So here it is, dear Rachel. My dear Rachel. I've only seen you once or twice, yet you are already on my mind, like constantly. You intrigue me, you calm me down, I feel things. Possibilities of a future together. I could be that guy you describe. I could stay in with you, for a lifetime I guess. But I'd also like to take you out, to see people, to go for a delicious dinner, or to soak up art at a gallery. And maybe, someday to take you to the country half of me comes from. All preferably with our little one in a carrier on my back... Am I going too fast? I probably am. I don't want to scare you. I'll probably be quiet and in awe when we finally meet. And I can be funny too. Just contact me. I'll make sure it'll be worth your time.

Manon: Thank you, Mr. Hardenes. And now, sweet, dear Rachel, you know what they say: last may be best! Here is Mr. Klaus-Ove Larsen, the youngest of these gentlemen, someone who might sweep you off your feet in a swirl of magnificent creativity.

(prev)

[scratchandplaster]

Tales of Arcadia - A new beginning

CW: insects, Sam bullying Ben with invasive questions, amnesia

Previous | [Masterlist] | Next

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ben held on like a vice. It wasn't fair of Dad to leave this early in the morning, especially not without any prior warning.

"I'll be back in two days tops, so I need someone to keep the team in order," Shepard laughed and tried to pull away from the avid embrace, "Otherwise I come back and everything is upside-down."

His son was neither used to nor keen on being the man of the house, clinging to his waist without mercy. It just wasn't fair!

"Send someone else to pick the new tools up then."

"We need to get this done before another storm blows us away. And when you want something done right, you have to do it-"

"-yourself. I know, Dad!" Ben huffed sadly and hugged his dad extra tight before untangling himself, a queasy pull beneath his heart didn't like to be separated so promptly. If asked, Ben would certainly deny how he tried to squirm away from his old life just a few days ago. Especially now, when everything just felt like it belonged exactly where it stood.

"And who else is capable enough to show Sam around, hmm? They have been dying for a tour." Shepard ruffled Ben's hair one last time: "I'll be back in a heartbeat."

He promptly waved goodbye to anyone who was up and busy on the campground already. As everyone returned the gesture, Shepard smiled contently and slipped into the driver's side of Otis' battered pickup truck. He lowered his voice when beckoning Reuben closer through the open window.

"Sam might ask you plenty of questions and that's fine. I'm counting on it. They think we are a bit odd, so if you could make them familiar with our daily routine, I would be very pleased by that."

Ben didn't care to hide his annoyed scowl: "Okay, I guess."

"If they do act up or say anything you don't like, send them to Birdie. Worst case: she'll kick them out."

Without any further hurdles, Shepard once again excused himself under the promise to return swiftly. He didn't worry about whether Ben stayed in place - this tic had been thoroughly dealt with. His son waved after him for a while as the truck drove down the gravel path and up to the familiar country roads. 

The queasiness only grew.

--------

"Hi, Ben!"

His hike downhill came to a surprised halt as Ben's focus was caught on a familiar shape: Sam, copper hair just as radiant as the morning sunlight, leaned against the cabin.

This would certainly be interesting. To examine the prodigal son far away from any watchful eyes could be the breach they searched for; the quick chat with his father had turned out virtually worthless: "So, what do you want to show me?"

They were in a good mood, Ben noticed, like they didn't casually play him for a fool the other day. The resentment oozing from his every pore felt pathetically childish: it had been right that he came back to his family, so there was no real reason for his upset. Still, he kept a tasteful distance. 

"Well, what do you want to see?" Ben asked, curt and reserved, his stiff attitude not staying unnoticed. 

Sam sized him up, starting at the navy-blue sweater with a manta ray on the chest. God, this was way more atrocious than his clubbing outfit - no wonder they were able to spot him so quickly in a metropolis. Not planning on wasting any more thought on the yokel's new clothes, they instead forced a smile: "Let's start with everything."

Everything turned out to be a meadow, primarily, grass on grass corralled by mixed woodland and a small stream at the far end of it. A cluster of tepees occupied the largest chunk of the area: six of them forming a circle with one in the middle, safely guarded from all sides and the community tent at the northern fringe of it. For all Sam cared, this looked like any regular camping site.

Bullshit! There had to be more to this hippie utopia: the shrine of an ancient harvest god behind the washrooms, screams of occult choirs choked out by peaceful chirping. 

Ben led them further across the pasture towards the barn and a patch of short grass enclosed by wire fence where chickens, rabbits, and sheep happily grazed together. Picturesque scenery impressed Sam only on rare occasions.

"Why rabbits of all things?" they wondered instead, squinting into the distant fields to catch of any other possible livestock.

"Easy to breed, easy to - uhm...process, sadly."

"You eat these?!" They gawked in disbelief. Jeez, as long as they didn't plan on doing it to them...

"Sometimes, but mainly, they are our eager fluffy lawnmowers," Ben clarified and let his gaze wander across the landscape, "Otherwise, the tics would be all over us by now."

Animal cruelty as a lead story always brought in new listeners, but in the context of this alternative milieu, Sam doubted anybody's genuine outrage. No, they should rather uncover something solid.

The early birds that were already outside gave them friendly smiles and scurried across the lawn as being led by an invisible hand. Everyone had their place, helping wherever it was needed inside this manageable ecosystem: chatting, preparing food or folding laundry. 

Past the rustic warehouse and workshop located far away from the rest of the settlement and locked shut, a strange exception Sam noticed quickly, Ben described the most important workstations curtly before hurrying over to the next. At this pace, Sam was better off turning this interview into a speed date to keep their not at all enthusiastic guide alert. 

As they passed the gurgling stream per stone bridge to the other side, conifers stole nearly all the sunlight away. Standing proud above the dark grass that no rabbit had ever touched, only strings of dewdrops surrounded the pair now. 

Ben's first chore of the day approached. Sam could hear a sudden uproar in the air: the all-embracing buzz of a bee farm. Six white boxes were stacked randomly along the brookside, frantically dancing and working bees surrounded them, only interested in offering their lot.

The buzzing turned louder and louder with every step until Sam decided to stay comfortably distanced from them: "Don't you need like a suit? Or smoke, at least?" 

"No, they still remember me." Yearning settled deep in Ben's voice. So careful in handling the single wooden frames and their golden-brown honeycomb, the hive greeted him by crawling over his face and hands. None of them were ready to sacrifice their lives in the face of the new guests, the light hum remained peaceful.

It didn't surprise Sam that Shepard wanted him back: he acted like the perfect poster child for this whole charade. Yet, his circumstances were much more interesting than honeybees.

"Where's your mother? She doesn't seem to live here."

"That doesn't concern you," Ben murmured instantly. 

"Fair enough. Is Shepard Cohen your real father or is it like a spiritual commitment?" A Ben Cohen didn't exist in any register they searched in, neither did a Benjamin, Benson, Bennet or Benedict Cohen under the age of thirty. Whoever the man in front of them claimed to be, he definitely wasn't pleased by this question. 

If Sam didn't know him better, they'd nearly expect to earn a handful of bees to the face. Ben was furious: "You are so rude! I can't believe I wanted to sleep with somebody like you."

Sam snorted with laughter: "Okay, that was blunt. You didn't give me a satisfying answer, though."

He let his silence speak for itself, carefully taking the different frames out of the hive and inspecting them. No parasites were visible and out to disturb the little critters' home life; only a big one to his left.

Ben didn't know many journalists or whatever Sam tried to sell themself as, just how badly he wanted to end this conversation. Dad wouldn't mind him sharing, right? Ben did, though, too bad then that his opinion rarely mattered.

"-I would be very pleased with that." Fine, every trick to get them off his back.

"He didn't make me, if you have to know," he finally admitted and let his face scrunch up in painful acceptance, "But he is my dad. That's what matters."

Wow, that was one way to make them feel like a piece of shit. To upset the son of a man they wanted to win a favor from may turn out to be their worst gambit yet. Did Sam really want to risk their invite to dig out strangers' family drama, especially if they otherwise failed to expose anything noteworthy? Not today, at least.

"And all the honey goes to you guys?"

"Yeah, or we sell it with the comb. Very popular on the market this season," Ben started to calm down in the face of their sudden interest, "Oh look, here's the queen!"

Being less than a fan of insects, Sam took another step back: "So you're the bee guy, I figure."

"Not really. Ann used to organize the hives before she went back to Dallas to study environmental science. We all try our best to keep the colonies healthy, though I'm more charged with watching the kids. Play with them, keep them away from the workshop and river...the usual, y'know?"

A gust of wind soughed through the woods. 

"What's in the workshop?" Sam breathed, thinking of the remote shed at the end of the world.

With empty eyes, Ben slowly turned towards them, his voice low and dark: "That's where we keep the virgin sacrifices."

What the-

For nearly a whole second, he managed to hold a stern face only to immediately break out into laughter. Sam just rolled their eyes, unable to stop the grin tugging at the corners of their mouth: You little bastard...

It was a true shame, virgin sacrifices would make one hell of a headline though - that shit would sell like hot cakes.

"Take a wild guess," Ben scoffed and closed the hive shut, "Jigsaws, circular saws, carving tools, lacquer. Anything that should be kept far way from a set of five-year-olds. I mean, Shawn is twice their age and still needs supervision sometimes, it can get pretty hectic keeping them all in place."

At the prospect of juicy details, Sam found it impossible to resist digging deeper: "And still Lukas didn't like it here, huh. Why did he leave?"

"Who knows." Dad may be sound with him talking openly, but he would never backstab his brother like this. If Sam had a question for him, they had to ask on their own, thank you very much!

"I would've hoped you do," they teased further, to which Ben simply shrugged and continued with the check-up.

"It doesn't happen that people just walk out one day, so no one is sure about it."

"Ann did, though. Leave, I mean." 

"That's not the same, she still visits between semesters. Lukas, he...well, he has different necessities." Gradually, a strange pressure at the back of Ben's neck made itself notable - more than just the threat of a headache and these stupid questions certainly didn't help with it.

Nobody was allowed to know where Luke stayed, it was his wish and Ben had to respect this decision, no matter how abstruse it seemed. He could never forgive himself if he broke a promise he gave. And he didn't. He never would. 

The pressure crept behind his eyes now, pricking and prodding to stir something awake that was long gone. Something important… Or did he know? No way, Dad was just picking up new tools, it’s fine. Everything is fine.

"It looks like you do enjoy being home again." Sam casually pulled him back to the present, still nervous about the army of prickly animals all over his body.

"Of course!"

"Despite Shepard having to literally drag you out of a parking lot."

"You could've just asked me nicely to come along in the first place," Ben griped. The more he spoke, the clearer it became to Sam why he was acting so pissy, "It's better now, he knows what's best for me."

"And that being?" 

"Not staying out there."

Sam would be slightly more shocked by how content he was despite being ripped from the streets, if they didn't invest hours into research about the mindset of cult members. For them, it felt rather embarrassing how some people just let themselves be toyed with for a bit of fake love. 

"I thought you enjoyed the big-city life."

"Of course I did, it was great and loud and new and terrifying." Ben slowly placed the last honeycomb back into place. "It's good that I took a peek, but this place is where I belong."

"Yeah, sure." Someone drank a big gulp of the Kool-Aid, huh?

Sam pondered how guilty they had to feel for making it possible, though it didn't last long. Perhaps, in this special case, it was better this way. Maybe Ben just didn't know any better and as he was now, lost and found, he- Hold on.

"Lost and found" would make a sick title for the first episode, Sam had to jot it down immediately!

Finally ready to let the hives return to their work, Ben headed back to the shameless tourist: "I know that you think I'm stupid."

"Ben, come on-" There it was, the fishing for sympathy. Thank god Sam only had a short annual supply of comfort to give, and they certainly wouldn't waste on that guy.

"Luke's roommates thought so too," he explained blankly, "Because I never went to high school, or have a degree, or read Shakespeare, or know what a Kardashian is."

"Believe me, I'd be a lot happier if I didn't have to worry about half of that."

"You seem to prefer it to my home anyway. If you already have your mind made up, why waste your time? I'm not interested in changing your opinions." 

Dad was, even though he never thought twice about other people's impressions in the past. What about Sam was so special then?

"Hey, I'm just asking questions," Sam countered, "I think it's charming here. Different, sure, but that doesn't mean I think badly of your home. Or you guys' lifestyle for that matter; that's the reason I came here in the first place: to witness. May I write about what we talked about?" 

They already did, but it's the thought that counts.

"Write? Okay, why not." For all he cared, they could create a haiku of their dispute; as long as Dad gave the green light, it was fine. Suddenly, Ben's eyes opened wide, his face bright and rosy with embarrassment: "But not what I said about you, please! That I wanted…with you."

"Got it. So you don't want…with me anymore?" They impishly raised their eyebrow as if to mock his bygone flirting attempt.

Ben's tone was clear and sharp: "No, I don't." 

Ouch, wrong time for a tease. The atmosphere between them was tense enough and Ben didn't plan to become friends any time soon, that was for sure. In the end, Sam was here to investigate - not to hold hands.

The walk back to the office was silent and just as uneventful as before. Overseeing the settlement from the hilltop, now that the morning fog had cleared up, made Sam take a deep breath in defeat. This had to be the most boring cult ever documented, they hadn't even been offered any mind-altering drugs yet. How were they supposed to thrill an audience this way?

"Well then, we could visit the fields too if you like," Ben offered as he caught their frustrated mood, "but I'm afraid that's all there is to our home. Voilà, I guess."

Though it was all he had to offer, it didn't mean there weren't more secrets to reveal: "I think I'll see that for myself and stay a while longer. There's so much more to learn about."

"We have a tent for guests. Or volunteers, if you like to have company."

"I have my own place, thanks," Sam huffed and stepped closer towards him, hoping he would still grant them the honesty he promised before, "Ben, are there any - how should I word this - events that I can help with?"

"Events? Do you mean parties?" Excess similar to the way they had met each other was absolutely not the kind of get-together Birdie liked to arrange, especially when drugs were involved - no matter how legal or not. All members were responsible for supporting William and his friends from the streets, and that meant helping them to not endanger themselves. Any evening campfires were kept perfectly sober and peaceful.

"Yeah, or prayers. A mass, if you will." Sam was desperate for a spicy narrative: ritually sacrificed rabbits for fertile earth or a midwest Walpurgis Night. A single orgy at least!

Ben was lost in thought: "Uhm...sometimes, very early in the morning, we do yoga before breakfast."

"Naked?"

"What-"

"Naked yoga, right?"

"No, just yoga," Ben stretched both arms above his head and balanced his weight on one foot, "Like this. Gets you warmed up for the day."

Sam was officially done, there really was nothing to get out of this idiot. No listener in their right mind wanted to click on a podcast about hillbilly workouts.

"Thanks, I'd rather not sing Kumbaya with you guys. Not everyone can afford to frolic in a meadow the whole day," they sighed and wiped their hands on their jacket, "Who has time for an interview now?"

"Hmm," Ben let his gaze wander once again, "try Birdie. She's prepping lunch at this time of day. You need to work, though."

"Please, I'm working right now." And what did all this work get them? A semi-relevant report about ethical, organic slaughter was the most controversial topic they could eviscerate this circus for.

"Is that so?" he eyed them from the side, "Make it a bit more obvious, maybe someone will buy it then."

"Alright, got the message," Sam assuaged him, "I'll leave you alone. Thanks for the tour anyway."

With a firm bite on his tongue, Ben gave a nod and nothing more - staying kind could be an effort every so often. 

The frustrated visitor continued to stumble down the hill before shouting one last tip towards him: "You still owe me for the drinks, by the way!"

The quicker they got what they wanted, the faster they were able to let him and his family be at peace again. Another impression Ben shared with his father.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

[o-uncle-newt]

Cabin Pressure Advent Day 8: Helsinki

OK, so Helsinki doesn't get the ultra-enthusiastic "HELSINKIIII" that I've been giving to episodes like Fitton and Gdansk because, well, it's just not a favorite of mine particularly. It's been a while since I listened to it, and there were a BUNCH of things that I noticed that really surprised me on relisten.

Like, it's significantly nastier than I'd remembered! I was expecting Ruth to be horrible and Kieran to be an annoying little shit, but I didn't expect Martin to actually hit Kieran (I remembered a contretemps and Kieran beating Martin up but couldn't remember Martin's precise role) and I also, less flashily, didn't expect Douglas to directly call Arthur an idiot while addressing Carolyn, and her basically being okay with it. I guess in the context of a defense of Arthur's zealousness in trying to find Carolyn a present for her 63rd (that very significant birthday...) she let it go? But I feel like that's a lot.

(Also, as one of four children... Arthur is the onliest only child I have ever heard of. Like, everything about every one of his plans and interactions this episode... wow.)

I was also kind of surprised that the plot felt a bit weaker than usual- it's hard to really understand why Carolyn was okay with paying for a whole flight largely on the strength of Douglas's ulterior motives. I can't decide whether the Northern Lights viewing is meant to have been one of those ulterior motives and is therefore worth it for her... which is sweet, but doesn't really explain her taking him at his word for what would seem to be, on the surface, literally no reason with every reason to reject him (the cost, the fellow passengers...). Maybe this is me not being subtle enough or something, but I was really surprised when she agreed to do the flight, it felt under-justified. Idunno, YMMV.

It's interesting- I REALLY can't decide whether I think that the Martin and Kieran scenes work better alphabetically or as aired. Is it funnier to listen to it in Helsinki already knowing that Martin isn't paid, or is it funnier to take this scene for granted as written and then only the next week in Gdansk have it be suddenly retroactively funnier? I'm not really sure, and I welcome all opinions on the matter.

The episode as a whole was definitely on the darker and bitterer side, and I can't decide what I think about it. Martin hitting Kieran is pretty insane, though of course after Arthur LITERALLY MANSLAUGHTERING A GUY it's tame relatively speaking, and while Kieran is annoying as fuck the storyline is fine. I did feel, though, like I would have liked just a bit more of a throughline for the Carolyn and Ruth storyline. It's SO vitriolic and angry, and I feel like, in order to be entertaining and not just discomfiting it needed to either have a clearer emotional throughline OR to just be funnier/sillier. Them leaving Ruth and Kieran behind, and Philip hiding away on the plane and turning out to not be deaf, is very funny, but it doesn't really change, for me, that their fight felt very bitter but in a bit of a pointless way. We learn a bit about Carolyn and her past and some of her sore points, but Ruth herself as a character is basically just there to be nasty and I wish she could have been there for just a bit more than that. (NOT that I think that they should have reconciled or whatever- just that their interactions felt kind of pointless except for the sake of being mean. And she was right that the fact that Martin hit Kieran is nuts, and ideally to be funny a character like that shouldn't be right about anything...)

Helsinki has some super funny bits (obviously- the fact that I keep saying that feels a bit redundant at this point- it's Cabin Pressure, obviously there are funny bits- so I'll point out that Arthur celebrating his numbers winning the lottery is precious), the birthday celebration at the end is sweet and a sign that they're simpatico with each other by now, and of course this is the episode that launched a thousand and one Douglas-centered ships. So it's fine- but not really the kind I go for.

Unlike tomorrow... when we go to IPSWICH!

[winvyre]

[Valerie's Story] Chapter 1: Omie (3/6)

It's the first day of spring: Omie's Festival day. Normally around this time there's still snow deep enough for the watchmen to need to clear the streets since we live in the Northern part of the Forest Region but this year the most we ever got was a few inches that melted a couple days later. And that was in the heart of winter. It’s odd.

Everyone’s festival outfits have furs and thick fabrics so they’re all wearing nice summer clothes instead which means a lot less red is present. It’s nice to see the rainbow in the square from my bedroom window even though the festival day feeling sorta relies on all the red. At least the pennant banners with Omie’s symbol and the hearthbloom wreaths hung all over the village are red.

This dress is my favorite. It’s lavender (my favorite color), off the shoulder like Omie’s though not as deep of a neckline, with long flowy sleeves and small butterfly embroidery all around the cuffs and bottom hem. The skirt hangs just past my knees so I can still run around in it and there is noticeable stitch work in a few places because it gets torn when I’m playing in the woods and Mom has to fix it. The biggest one came from getting caught on a branch when I fell from a tree. That’s why she gave me my vest. It’s brown and laces up in the front and it’s long enough to protect most of the skirt. The belt has a large silver buckle the same shade as my eyes which is why I picked it.

I guess the whole point of the festival is moot now because the winter was so unusual. We’re supposed to be thanking Omie for protecting us through the winter and keeping our houses warm. Oh well. The Believers will find some other reason to celebrate. I’m here for the games and the food!

Before any of the fun stuff happens we have to wait for the special service to be over. Today most people will congregate in the Megachurch in the capital, some of our neighbors will too, but Archfell is pretty isolated so our main temple will be at capacity. It’s got some nice stained glass windows but other than that it’s what Maurin would call “art deficient.” He’d also say “It’s like they think having three thousand candles makes up for how barren the walls are.” He would know, too. He counted. I wish he were here.

The temple isn’t the only place with candles today. Every booth has at least a few candles waiting to be lit. The exceptions are the candle-selling booths for obvious reasons and the booths run by the most devout of Omie’s Believers; they have a lot. They're usually the same booths anyway. According to the religion, the candles represent our hope and faith as a guiding light through dark times. There's a story about Omie arriving in a plagued, famished village and lighting all the candles with her holy energy. That story is the reason why Holywood, also named after the story, is the capital of the Forest Region and why the Megachurch is located there.

Francesca and I loiter outside the temple, listening in. The priest’s voice is muffled but I can still make out most of the words. “Benevolent Omie, uplift the lowest and alleviate their suffering.” Fran’s waiting for the watchman from the docks to exit so she can pretend to run into him. Mom says she's at that age where some kids start thinking about romance and to indulge her a little bit. That's why I'm here. She's too scared to talk to him alone. He's only two years older than her which is how much older she is from Kell. It shouldn't be that hard. Is that what I’m going to be like in three years?

“Gentle Omie,” the priest says, “care for us, show your love to the loveless, put our hearts and our minds at ease so that we may celebrate today.” Francesca's pacing. It's almost the end. “Let us recite ‘Our Lady.’”

The church goers chorus:

“Our Lady, Our Lady

Dressed in all red

The color of Hearth

The sufferers bled

Our Lady, Our Lady

She came from the sky

To help the unfortunate

And mend why they cry

Our Lady, Our Lady

Champion of Home

She takes care of us

We are never alone

Our Lady, Our Lady

We kneel and revere

We dance and we sing

Because you are here.”

I’ve never witnessed any other religious services but the Hearth Immortal’s worship has gotta be one of the most boring. How it became the most widespread is a mystery to me.

The temple doors open. Fran jumps and adjusts the pastel blue hair bow tying off her dark braid. She did it herself and is very proud of it. People pour out, ready to start the festivities. The first teens I see are Fran’s classmates she sometimes hangs out with. They look her up and down with an amused sort of disgust then snicker amongst themselves. She blushes and hides her face. What was that about?

The watchman is one of the last people to leave. “I can’t do it!” Fran whines.

“Just do it already! He’s leaving!”

“No! He’ll hate me! He probably already does!”

“Have you ever spoken to him?”

“Not directly…”

“Then why would he hate you? I’d understand if he’d actually met you-”

“Hey!” Fran’s nose scrunches up and her eyebrows furrow. I watch the watchman finish his conversation with an older couple before he starts walking again. This is stupid.

“Hey, watchman.”

“Yes?”

“Are you single?”

Fran rushes to my side, “I’m so sorry about her, she’s just goofing around.” she smiles nervously, dragging me back to our hiding spot.

“Any particular reason you wanted to know?” the watchman asks good-naturedly.

“My sister likes you.” I say without hesitation. Fran lets go of my arm to cover her face again as she sprints away. “Uh oh.” I think I messed up. “Disregard that. I have to go now.”

I find Francesca crying behind the temple. “Why would you do that?!”

“I was trying to help.”

“You didn’t help me, you just embarrassed me! The other girls are never going to let me hear the end of it. My life is over!”

“Fran-”

“Go away, Valerie!”

I back up, bumping into Mom. “What’s wrong?”

“I told Fran’s crush that she liked him and now she won’t talk to me.” I point to Fran curled in on herself on the ground.

“She just needs some time to calm down. You overstepped her boundaries and upset her. She didn’t ask you to confess for her so it wasn’t your information to tell. I’ll stay with her, you can apologize later.”

Oh. “Okay.”

Mom sits down next to Fran and I go to meet Kell at our rendezvous point: the spinning top stand.

----------

Channeling Ebony in that outfit description lol Half way through... buckle up!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[goldeneyedgirl]

AILess Whumptober Day 5: Held at Gunpoint

silence. (day 5: held at gunpoint).

twilight, alice/jasper, pg, post-twilight. canon-verse. trigger warnings: school shooting, mention of suicide.

This prompt was so cursed, I can't even. I just had such a hard time with it, but we persevere. It definitely ended up way longer than I wanted and like... it's done. It's fantastically wonky, but hopefully it works.

Day 6 will be politely skipped over for now, and we resume tomorrow with Day 7.

There are many, many things that Alice Cullen has never done. She’s never eaten ice cream, she’s never fallen asleep, she’s never accidentally cut herself. She can’t, but that’s beside the point - on the list of things and experiences she’s had in her life time, they remain absent.

There are million little things she never got to do. It’s not something she thinks about much; she’s seen and done and had so many other beautiful, wonderful, fantastic experiences that what she has missed out on don’t seem to matter that much. How many people get to dance barefoot under the Northern Lights? How many people get to go on long, lazy tours of entire continents without a single responsibility in the world? Not to have to worry about where their next meal is coming from? Or know that they can always study a different degree next go-round?

When she does get to mentally cross off a new experience, it’s usually with joy. The list gets shorter the older she gets, so new things are almost always wonderful.

But this time… well, she’s sorry that this will be an experience that she gets to cross off her list. More for her classmates than herself.

But then, maybe it’s becoming the quintessential American high school experience and this moment was inevitable.

(The silence is chilling.)

Study hall in the library is the one class she doesn’t have with Edward, Bella, or Jasper. She thought about changing it, but they all decided that having one of them not in class could be potentially useful to them - not to mention that it’s fine and healthy for Jasper to have classes without her. Esme’s always lovingly exasperated when the school sends messages home that they’re bordering on unhealthily codependent and maybe someone should look into that. This was a positive step towards looking more normal.

So she had kept study hall after lunch and now she’s sitting next to Nicole Casey who is trying not to cry, second-guessing her choices. Samantha Wells is two seats down and shaking perceptibly and every single one of them are staring very hard at their books.

She’s so very, very glad Bella had Bio with Edward after lunch.

(She can feel the ghost of her heart pounding in her ears as she tries to find a way out. But her gift won’t settle, as the future fluctuates.)

Forks is small enough that it’s hard not to know something about everyone, especially classmates - Beth’s mother has made several inappropriate passes at Emmett, Lee Stephen’s little sister has just gone into remission from leukemia, Jennifer Ford can’t manage to keep a part-time job longer than a month. Just useless nonsense that she habitually picks up for no reason.

Which is why when Kirk stormed into the library, the hair stood up on the back of her neck. He was always one of the quiet ones, slipping through the crowds without notice, coming into study hall with his head down and taking the first seat at the left-hand desk. He listened to angry music the whole time, and ignored everyone else. He was the occasional punchline to a joke, but mostly he was just another face in the junior class. Except…

Kirk’s father had been one of the workers laid off recently, when another lumber company closed up shop. A lot of families had been struggling lately, another closure had made things worse for the town, and there was only so much that could be done - Esme made sure the local food pantry was overflowing (anonymously, of course), the Cullens made regular donations of clothing to the church and the local thrift store, and Carlisle was volunteering for as many shifts in the walk-in clinic that he could get away with.

Work would come, she had seen that. By the end of summer, things would pick up again. But it wasn’t like they could tell people that, or that it made time speed up. They just had to wait.

And worry and stress created anger, and anger could come out in so many ways - like the men that lined up outside the liquor store and the one bar on the end of the town limits. The yelling and frustration towards everyone still surviving and thriving - they’d started driving Emmett’s Jeep to school, much to Rosalie’s displeasure. And the bruises that littered Kirk’s face, the way the kid hid inside his hoodie and glared at anyone that walked past. Jasper had visibly recoiled from the boy when he got too close, the distaste he had visible on his face from whatever emotions Kirk was emitting.

Oh, Jasper. She wishes he was here, so she could hold his hand. But she’s glad he’s not because she can practically feel the tension and fear and rage in this room right now; if he were here, he’d be suffering.

(Rob Sawyer is starting to wheeze, and Mrs Garcia is visibly crying. This is going to get worse before it gets better.)

“…think you’re better than me!” Kirk rants, pacing, the gun shiny and obscene in one hand. There’s a bullet hole in the check-out desk - a warning shot. “How many times, Sawyer? Huh? Since middle school?” Suddenly the gun is pressed to Rob Sawyer’s temple, and the boy squeezes his eyes shut, his lungs straining for oxygen. He is as white as a ghost, his skin waxy white, and it’s a long way from the boy that offered her a flower on Valentine’s Day last year because ‘Hale needed to know there was competition’ with a wink and a grin.

She’s waiting for the shot, waiting for the sound of the body hitting the ground.

Just as suddenly as he jammed the gun against Rob, Kirk moves on. He’d just walked into the library like a thunderstorm, reached into his backpack and pulled out the gun - a handgun, most likely used by his parents to ‘protect their home’. She hadn’t even seen it coming, because he hadn’t made the choice to take it out, to do this, right up until that exact moment.

She didn’t even know how long he’d been carrying it around. She’d never seen anything. She can’t even see how this is going to end. Everything is in flux.

Kirk’s walking round their seats now, reciting their sins and pressing the gun against their skin. Sara turned him down in middle school, Cole beat him up last year for some reason that isn’t mentioned. A laundry list of crimes that he hisses and yells and sneers back at them, grotesquely empowered to stand his ground now. She keeps her gaze fixed on the table. She can feel the metal of her seat bending where her hand is gripping it, and she has to take a breath and calm herself.

(The very, very worst thing that could happen is that Kirk does shoot one of them. Free-flowing blood… she’s intensely aware that in this moment, that will break her.)

He’s around at her table now, and she’s trying to brace herself for what comes next. She’s never had a gun pointed at her before - except for Emmett’s paintball guns; she’d been more mad that he’d point a paintball gun at her vintage Alaia, honestly. And Jasper has some vintage guns, sentimental collectibles, but even though a bullet wouldn’t do anything more than ruin her outfit, he’d rip off his own arms before he pointed a gun at his wife.

So this is new. Very new.

“Nicole Casey,” Kirk says in that sing-song voice that is unnerving. “The one who started the rumour that I pad my swimsuit because someone this ‘scrawny couldn’t have anything worthwhile going on’? Do you know what you did, Nicole? Do you know?” Everyone knows. It’s a running school joke. She’s heard from her brothers the absolute bullshit that goes on in the locker room; they’ll only intervene if it crosses over from verbal to physical, per Cullen family policy. Jasper might intervene with his gift if it’s appropriate but honestly, Jasper escapes the locker rooms like a road runner most days. Human eyes might not be able to see the scars easily, but he refuses to risk it.

The gun slides through Nicole’s hair and he leans over her shoulder. “Bang.”

And Nicole slumps in her seat, audibly sobbing.

(Everyone else is being evacuated. They can hear them; the hurried footsteps trying not to burst into a run, the tears and the desperation to be swift and as quiet as possible. There’s some yelling, people calling out for their friends and siblings, panic in their voice. It feels very far away right now.)

She feels very distant from everything that’s happening in the room right now. She wonders if Edward can hear her; the library is at the back of the school, they’ve probably evacuated everyone to the front in the hopes they can get the students off campus. She hopes Jasper is staying calm. She’s going to be fine.

The muzzle of the gun is suddenly against the back of her neck bringing her back into the moment, and it’s an odd feeling that brings up an entirely new scenario to worry about - if Kirk, who she’s never spoken with, decides to shoot her. The bullet will ricochet; if the gun is flush against her skin, it’ll backfire and… it’ll be a mess. A big one that will be hard to explain.

“Little Alice Cullen. The Cullens never give anyone the time of day. Too high and mighty to deal with us lowlifes.” The gun slides down the top of her spine. “Driving around in your sister’s car that cost more than a house. You think you’re just so much better than any one else that you had to keep it in the family rather than slum it with anyone from Forks. What’s it like, Alice? Huh? When you f-”

(It’s rather hypocritical for him to bring up their admittedly terrible cover story that she’s fucking her ‘brother’, after condemning Rob and Nicole for ruining his life over rumours and personal stuff.)

She turns her head slightly; his breath hot and damp against her face. The gun moves to jam into the space between her jaw and neck. She wishes she was alone with him right now. She’s been a Cullen for decades, she knows how to stage a suicide with the best of them.

The library doors suddenly bang open, and they all jump; including Kirk. She knows that they’re all expecting Chief Swan or one of the police, and Mrs Garcia’s face is an expression of horror when she realizes who it is.

The only person who expects him is her. The fear and anxiety that have been pouring off her would be like a beacon to him. Edward might be able to read her mind, but Jasper will always hear her when she calls - even when she doesn’t mean to.

But the very easiest way to get out of this without bloodshed is with an empath. Especially an empath who knows how to manage people. In the right head space, Jasper could sell milk to cows.

And honestly, in any bad situation, he just makes it better. Everything is going to be okay if Jasper’s there. That’s how it’s always been for her.

Except… his expression is dark. Calm, but dark. Angry. He’s so angry right now, his fists tensing at his sides. The muzzle of the gun slides back along her neck to press hard against where her neck joins her head and she hopes it doesn’t bend.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kirk snaps, and his other hand grips the shoulder of her sweater. “If you take another goddamn step, I am going to blow her head off.”

(Someone has wet themselves. She doesn’t know who, but the smell is distinct and she’s just so intensely aware that other than the librarian, she’s surrounded by children - sixteen and seventeen years old, facing down a peer, a classmate, a friend who is threatening them with death because he’s tired of life being cruel. She just feels sorry for them, the ones that will close their eyes and not be able to forget this day, forget the barrel of the gun against their skin, and the knowledge that they might never get to say good bye to everyone they love.)

“You’re going to put the gun down.” Jasper’s voice is low. “Alice?”

“I’m okay.” Her voice quivers perfectly, she sounds like a panicked teenager trying to stay calm. Her hands are balled up in her skirt, and she’s playing the part perfectly.

“Get the fuck out, Hale,” Kirk has a slightly hysterical tone to his voice.

“Kirk, put the gun down.” Jasper’s having trouble with picking the correct flavour of calm right now, she can tell - the room is full of terror and rage. Their secret could be exposed. He’s pissed off that it was her class that Kirk chose for his vendetta.

“Make me,” Kirk snaps and Alice kind of wants to laugh. Emmett said that to Jasper once in the seventies over something. She can’t even remember what - a remote control car? Some gadget that they were both fascinated with. She just remembered that it ended with Jasper taking Emmett up on his challenge with the kind of swift and decisive action that guaranteed a humiliating defeat. One of those incidents that became family lore.

(Bella will like that story, she has to remember to tell her.)

Jasper’s eyes narrow in a way that sealed the deaths of thousands of newborns and humans back in the day, and Alice takes a breath to try and center herself. Having Kirk so close to her is uncomfortable - he doesn’t smell even fainting good, and honestly, other than Bella, she’s not usually touched all that much by humans; usually it’s accidental or incidental touching, not a grip. It’s very odd and she’s hyper-aware of him; she almost wishes he’d still been tormenting Nicole when Jasper walked in.

“You’ve made your point,” Jasper shrugged. “You’ve scared the shit out of everyone in this school, not just this room. No one is ever going to tell a joke about you again. Hell, they probably won’t talk about you ever again. And you did it without spilling any blood. You can walk away from this.”

That’s stretching the truth - Kirk’s going to prison after this, maybe after a stay in a psychiatric ward. A student can’t bring a firearm to school and go back home that night. That’s not how this ends. But it doesn’t have to get worse than that. There’s still light in the tunnel.

“Maybe I don’t fucking want to,” Kirk says back nastily. “Maybe I’m going to blow your sister-wife’s brains out.”

“That won’t end well for you.” Jasper moves closer. Everyone is transfixed. “Alice has never done anything to you, Kirk. Just put down the gun.”

(She can feel his finger shaking on the trigger. As much as fresh blood flowing is the very worst idea right now, having the bullet hit her flesh and explode the gun would end this quickly. She wonders if they can control themselves long enough to get out if someone starts bleeding.)

It hits her first; she’s always been especially vulnerable to his gift - maybe because she knows it so intimately, knows that it’s him, that she lets it happen. But she’s suddenly so calm and peaceful that she visibly relaxes. Everything is going to be okay.

Kirk’s breathing changes, and then the gun is falling away from her body and he is stepping backwards.

“The gun, Kirk.” Jasper’s voice isn’t kind, but it is firm, and she watches Kirk hold it out and maybe she holds her breath that he doesn’t change his mind at the last moment and fire it at Jasper.

Jasper’s hands close over it and she lets out a breath, closing her eyes for a moment, as Kirk drops to the ground and he begins to cry. There’s no pity in her for him right now; just relief for the others. Gratitude that her husband always has her back and is, at heart, a hero. She watches as he disassembles the gun with the intention of unloading it.

The bullets fall like rain onto the carpeted floor, and Jasper tosses the gun behind the check-out desk, and that’s when everyone comes back to life, scrambling faster than they can get their bodies to move. There’s yelling and tears and they all run, Kirk still sobbing on the floor.

She expects Jasper to take her hand, to pull her along with him into the hallway, to quietly get their stories straight so that she doesn’t have to go to hospital or talk to the police. Except he doesn’t.

He pulls her into the kind of hug that feels desperate and relieved. He’s wrapped around her like she might actually have gotten hurt, like he was actually worried for her, terrified of the outcome.

“We need to go,” she says, and he grunts his assent, but he doesn’t immediately move away. And when he finally does, he keeps one arm around her as they move through the school - no debrief, no instructions. Just the two of them hurrying outside to join the chaos.

(There’s a local news station there, and she’s relieved that they waited to leave the building, because no one really notices them slipping out to join the crowds; the police pushing past both of them to get inside and find Kirk.)

“We should have taken the gun,” she says as Jasper leads her away, towards where she can see their siblings sitting on the Jeep, waiting; Edward’s holding his phone to his ear, probably speaking with Esme or Carlisle. “We shouldn’t have left it with him.”

“I don’t care.” Jasper’s words are ice cold - and clairvoyant because seconds later, they all hear a gunshot ring out and when she gasps and turns to look around, he just wraps his arms around her protectively and keeps her moving towards their family.

(She sees Charlie, looking tired and angry; he makes eye contact with her and nods but doesn’t come over. She knows at some point, Charlie is going to come looking for her and Jasper - once he’s interviewed all the other students and Mrs Garcia, and finds out that they were right in the middle of this mess.)

She’s not really sure about getting home - she knows that she was bundled into the backseat with Jasper next to her; that Edward and Bella are following in Bella’s truck. She knows that Jasper has his arms around her the entire time, and that she’s never felt a tiredness like this before. Rose and Emmett keep looking at her in the backseat with these solemn expressions, like she’s going to keel over at any moment. And yeah, she did fuck up - she never should have missed that a student was carrying a gun around school, especially with Bella around. But she doesn’t want to think about that right now, and she doesn’t want anyone else to point that out either. She just leans against Jasper and lets everything wash over her, the conversation over her head indecipherable to her ears.

It all passes in a blur until she’s climbing out of the Jeep to find Esme there looking stricken, barely waiting for Alice to have both her feet on the ground before she’s pulled into a hug.

“Oh sweet girl,” Esme says, and she’s confused why everyone is behaving like she could have gotten hurt. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says, but Esme hugs her again - a proper mom hug, the ones she reserves for really, really bad days (slips, Maria’s unscheduled visits, the death of a human family member) and it doesn’t feel like she’s really done anything to deserve it.

“I’ll call Carlisle and let him know you’re all home safe,” Esme says, pressing a kiss to Alice’s forehead.

Edward and Bella aren’t back yet, so she doesn’t protest when Jasper gently guides her upstairs to their room, and folds her into their bed, his arms tight around her. And it’s her favourite place in the world right now; the familiar scent of the bedding, the way they both curl together in their usual positions with her head on his shoulder. It makes her feel like the world has tipped the right way up again. Like maybe her mind was still in that library, and it’s only just caught up with her body.

“How are you feeling?” Jasper asks, as if he can’t feel exactly what she is. She smiles and curls closer to him.

“I’m fine. I think you’ve all forgotten that if Kirk had tried anything, he would have hurt himself,” she replies. “I was more worried he’d damage the gun. How would we have explained that?”

Jasper’s giving her a look. “What? Are you okay? I haven’t seen you that mad in a long, long time. It couldn’t be because you missed American History.” Jasper hates that class; he’s lived through the real life events and the class so many times that the course work drives him nuts.

“I found my wife held at gunpoint today; it’s been mildly stressful,” he says lazily, but she can see the strain in his eyes.

“Jas…” she says softly. “We’re bulletproof. There’s nothing he could have done to us.”

“He might not have been able to hurt you, but he had the intention to,” Jasper explains, his fingers stroking her cheek. “He wanted to hurt you, Alice, and that is… entirely unacceptable to me. I walked in there to get you - and you alone - out of that room because of his rage and his hatred towards everyone in that room. If it had just been us, I would have… well, if he hadn’t cleaned up after himself, I would have done it for him. For even looking at you while holding that gun.”

She shivers in his arms, knowing that he means what he says. It could have been a few weeks from now, with Kirk home on bail, or it could have been ten years from now, on parole and starting over. Jasper would have found him and killed him. She knows her husband, and he holds a grudge - especially when it comes to her safety and happiness.

“There is a special terror in the sight of a fire arm for a human,” Jasper continues more gently. “They end a life so absolutely… I remember the first time I had to shoot one of our animals, when I was a child. It was such a terrible moment, it’s been over a hundred years and I’ve never forgotten it. The same with the first man I killed in war. A gun is a heavy responsibility, a way of playing god, when you’re mortal. It’s looking into the eyes of death.”

“…and I can’t really grasp that,” she says finally. “Because I’ve got no memory of them as a human.”

“There was never any doubt that you would leave that room whole, I know. But there will never, ever be a time when I won’t defend you from someone that intends you harm, whether that’s some high school kid or some kind of monster. You are always going to be my priority, the thing that I protect over everything else.” Jasper pressed his lips against her cheek and she reached up to run her fingers through his hair.

She loves him, all of him - his single-minded focus, especially towards her; his determination, his practicality, and even his over-protectiveness.

And she knows that at some point, they’re going to have deal with the fact that Kirk killed himself because of their carelessness, speaking with police on record, with the entire school knowing that they were in the eye of the storm. All those little things that could expose them, that make them memorable. She’ll let herself feel sad for Rob and Nicole and everyone else who was there who can’t sleep without feeling the barrel of the gun against their skin.

But right now, she’s going to stay here safe in her husband’s arms and be grateful for the fact that no matter what, he’s always going to come running when she calls.